A Kick From the Inside
by SosaLola
Summary: Something weird is going on with Xander. He's been throwing up a lot and there are some changes in... his body. He sure as hell hopes it's not what he's thinking.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Kick From the Inside ( written for the **Het MPreg Ficathon** )  
**Main Characters** Xander, Buffy, Joyce, and Willow  
**Genre:** Gen  
**Setting:** S3. Begins right after _Choices_ and a few days before _The Prom_.  
**Warning:**Male Pregnancy. Unreliable Narration. Plus morning sickness. Lots of morning sickness.

Big thanks wrapped in tight hugs to **sparrow2000** and **singer_shaper**for being my wonderful betas.

**Chapter One**

It was starting again. His hand flew to his mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut, anxiety rising as his stomach lurched. Feeling the large book on his lap starting to slip, he clutched it with both hands and then carefully put it on the table. He was not getting another lecture from Giles on the age and rarity of his precious dusty books. As nausea took hold, he jumped to his feet and knocked his chair down, catching the startled looks on Buffy's and Willow's faces.

Keeping her finger on the page she was reading, Willow slowly closed her book and eyed him with sympathy. "Chinese food poisoning again?"

Buffy's nose scrunched up. "Which Chinese takeout is _that_?"

"I…" Xander burped and felt the foul taste of his lunch in his throat. "I have to go."

He ran out of the library, pushing the disturbed stares that followed him to the back of his brain. His only priority at the moment was to get to the bathroom before he made a mess in the school halls. He made it to the bathrooms safely, though the toilet stalls felt as if they were miles away, so he hurled himself against the sink as his lunch exploded out of his mouth.

He inhaled, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and gazing down at the vomit-covered basin. Turning on the water, he washed his face and then started splashing the icky chunks of food, willing them to slide into the drain. He released a despairing sigh when he discovered that there were no paper towels by the sink, so he walked into the toilet to get some.

Dampening them with a little water, he started to wipe the mess on the sink. His desperate attempts not to look at his face in the mirror had been unsuccessful, and now he was face to face with the Grinch. His face was less green now, but his eyes were definitely red and he couldn't wash the exhaustion off his face no matter how many times he splashed it.

His hand hesitantly brushed against his not-so-flat stomach, reassuring him that he was _definitely_going insane. The sickness was getting stronger and more frequent, and he knew that Buffy and Willow were beginning to suspect something. Soon, he'd find himself faced with an intervention and the questions would attack him from all sides.

He was in deep shit. The universe was screwing with him, being its usual scumbag asshole. And speaking of holes, he slipped a shaking hand into his pants, hearing his heartbeat drum in his ears. And there it was. The freaking _new_hole.

* * *

Xander instinctively tugged on his oversized shirt when he caught Cordelia staring at his stomach. Fortunately – and he couldn't believe he was thinking this – a new wave of nausea took Cordelia and everyone else off his mind in one fell swoop. Things like this made him reconsider going to school, maybe even just dropping out. What was the point anyway? It wasn't like he had a shot of going to college. And it was only four weeks 'til graduation. So, technically school was already over.

Cordelia was coming over to him. No. No. No. He had to get out of here. He started toward the cafeteria doors, but the stench of meat loaf made him want to barf.

"Wrong way. Gym is the other direction." Cordelia's scornful voice stabbed his ears.

Shouldn't turn around, he thought. Shouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing his vomit face. Better lose vomit face altogether before disaster stroke. The cafeteria's doors swung open and his hands flew to his mouth to block the gagging that would inevitably lead to the barfing.

"Gosh," Cordelia said, raking her eyes over his stomach. "If I'd known any better I'd say you're competing with your dad over who's got the biggest beer belly."

Making jokes about his folks again. Classic Cordy. Maybe he should spray the vomit on her shiny shoes.

"Gee, are you gonna, like, throw up?"

He spun around and gagged, but nothing came out. Shit, dry heaving at the worst possible moment.

"Nice try." Cordelia took a step back, her face a picture of disgust and loathing. "Worse luck next time."

She spun around and strode away, leaving him gagging on saliva, surrounded by pointing and laughing students.

* * *

He nibbled on his lip when he caught the shocked look on Buffy's face. She obviously didn't expect to find him sitting on her front door steps an hour after midnight with a duffel bag resting next to him at that.

"Xander?"

He forced a bitter smile. "Hey, Buff."

She looked between him and the bag for a minute. The silence was so thick that something tightened in his chest and it hurt.

"Can I…" He swallowed. "Can I crash here tonight?"

Her eyebrows went up, but she answered without hesitation. "Of course."

* * *

He could hear the murmurs drifting from the kitchen, louder than Lucy and Ethel on the living room TV screen. He hadn't considered that Mrs. Summers might object to him sleeping on their couch. He'd assumed that since she'd come to terms with Buffy's slayerness, she wouldn't mind. She'd never minded him being in Buffy's bedroom, but he'd never been there without Willow's company.

His nails dug into his skin. Would she toss him out? Buffy wouldn't do that, but her mom might not approve of him spending the night. Maybe it would be for the best. His heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting from awkwardness and mortification. Showing up outside her house with nowhere else go to wasn't exactly the hard part; the hard part would be the opening up about why he was here.

The sound of approaching footsteps made his heart beat even faster. His gaze dropped to his hands on his lap, staring at the marks his nails had left.

A glass of water appeared in his field of vision. He eyed the hand holding it for a second before looking up, his heartbeat slowing down as he was captured by the warmth of Mrs. Summers' smile. It seemed like he must have been staring at her for awhile, because her smile wavered and her eyebrows knitted in concern. Accepting the glass he took a sip, wincing at the way the icy water washed down his dry throat.

Buffy sat next to him and watched him silently. Her mother disappeared into the foyer, leaving them alone. He caught a glimpse of her robe as she climbed up the stairs.

Apparently, his stay had been approved. Good, right? Because where else could he go? Obviously not to Willow's. Her mother had a rule against boys going into Willow's room, and he was sure she wouldn't allow him to spend the night in the house. And definitely not to Giles. Too awkward. Too embarrassing.

Talking to Buffy should be easier, but still, it was going to be so hard. God, he hoped he didn't implode. He took his time drinking the water, his gaze fixed on the TV screen, delaying confession time. He couldn't look at Buffy. He couldn't see the look of pity. He could handle shock and confusion, but not pity. Especially not from Buffy.

"I wasn't kicked out," he blurted out, choking on his water. He coughed a couple of times and Buffy patted his back gently.

He mustered the courage to look at her. There was no pity, just mild impatience. He heaved a long sigh. "I left."

"Do your parents know?" she asked softly.

"I told them I was gonna start my road trip before graduation. Told them I've dropped out of school."

Her eyes widened in alarm and worry. "You've dropped out?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

Her lips parted slightly as she stared at him. "Xander, I… I'm not sure what to say. Why?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "You've noticed lately how frequently I get sick…" He blinked his eyes open and looked at her. "It's not food poisoning."

"You don't say." She looked like she was holding in a chuckle. "I figured something was going on, but I…"

"You were too busy," he answered for her, his feelings from that night rearing up again. A look of hurt flashed in her eyes, and he knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn't help it. He'd been disappearing to the bathroom more than he could count, and they hadn't had the decency to investigate what was going on with him. He… definitely had to push the bitterness aside now that he had Buffy's attention.

"Xander, you're shaking," Buffy said with concern.

He was shaking and rocking back and forth, and there was a lump in his throat. Oh, God, he felt like he was on the verge of imploding. Pushing the glass to his mouth he drank the rest of the water in one swallow.

He eyed the empty glass, still feeling awkward and anxious. "Can I have more?"

"Xander," her voice held a firm tone of impatience that only belonged to the Slayer.

He set the glass down and looked away. "I don't know how to say this." He couldn't look at her, couldn't look at anything, so he hid his face in his hands. "Something happened to me."

"Something demony?"

"Maybe." His voice was muffled by his hands, so he lifted his head and looked straight at the TV. "Yes, yes, something demon-related. I'm sure. There's no way this thing is natural, or what kind of a freak am I?"

"Xander, you're scaring me. What is it?"

"I think…" He looked down at his slightly round tummy. He pointed a finger at it, pressed on its hardness lightly. "I think there's a kid in here."

"A kid?" Buffy frowned in bafflement, which smoothed into a thoughtful look, which blew up into wide eyes and flying eyebrows. "Oh!"

Xander looked away, biting on his lip.

"Oh," Buffy said again.

He heard a sound coming from the stairs. Buffy's mom wasn't eavesdropping on them, was she? Great. Now he was imagining sounds.

"Definitely demon-ness involved," Buffy said carefully. "Wow, Xander, how…"

"Scared," he answered right away, his gaze still on the stairs. "Mostly nauseated. Humiliated, except I'm used to that. But totally scared."

It felt like he had a wall of ice surrounding his heart and threatening to shatter. He did his best to keep it firm and standing, but then Buffy's warm hand slid over his own, enveloping it and making the ice inside melt despite his efforts.

"We'll fix this," she whispered in his ear and he sniffled quietly.

Xander used his other hand to wipe the dampness in his eyes and face. "For all my gripes over my lack of special, _this_wasn't what I had in mind." More ice melted when she squeezed his hand, but this time he looked right into her strong face with dampness and puffy eyes. "I wanna be old boring normal Xander again."

"You will be," she reassured him. "Giles will figure out…"

He jerked his hand out of her hold as if she electrified him. "We're telling _Giles_?"

She gave an apologetic shrug. "Kinda have to. We're telling the whole gang. You know too well how much of a research expert I am."

He threw his face back into his hands. "Oh God."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

What was worse than a long boring research session? Being the _subject_of that research session. Everybody's eyes were on Xander's stomach: Wesley was blinking at it, Giles was cleaning his glasses, and Buffy and Willow were inching closer toward the counter he was perched on. Oz, bless him, was rolling a pencil on the table and didn't take his eyes off it even after Xander revealed his unfortunate predicament.

"Thanks for not making me feel like a bug under a microscope."

Buffy and Willow took a step back and grinned guiltily. Wesley cleared his throat, his cheeks burning red. Giles, who had no shame, crept closer, adjusting his glasses and squinting. "This is utterly fascinating," he said.

He did look utterly fascinated.

Xander shot him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm glad my misery is amusing your Watcher senses."

Giles blinked up at him, his cheeks inflaming at realizing he was inches away from Xander's stomach. He coughed in embarrassment and took a step back.

"Assuming we're not being hasty here, when did you realize you were…?" Wesley trailed off, politely not mentioning the obvious.

Xander pursed his lips, swinging his dangling legs from side to side. He obviously wasn't going to tell them about how he discovered the extra hole, let alone all the other disturbing and embarrassing discoveries. "About two months ago. When this whole… not-just-morning sickness started."

Willow folded her arms around her chest, probably aiming for strong, but the way her hands were rubbing the sides of her arms made her look more like a nervous little girl. The fluffy pink sweater didn't help either. "Are you sure you're… you know?"

"Preggers instead of food bloating?" Xander's raised eyebrows made her duck her head and walk further away in embarrassment. When she reached Oz, he extended a hand and she took it, letting him squeeze her hand in support. How nice. _Xander_was the one who needed that hand squeeze. Except maybe not from Oz.

"How did you come to the realization that you were…" Giles paused, trying to find the most appropriate word, "Uh, with child?" He coughed in discomfort.

Obviously not as discomforted as Xander, who looked down at his untied shoes. "Well, I've noticed some changes… in my body."

"You mean besides the bloating?" Buffy asked lightly. She was taking it better than the rest of them, though she had the advantage of knowing about it and adjusting to it since last night.

He nodded uneasily, catching the way Oz rolled the pencil back and forth with his palm. Back and forth. Back and forth. If Xander had Willow's magic powers, he'd have sent the pencil flying toward his stomach and popping it with the sharp tip.

"So?"

Xander blinked out of his trance and turned to Giles, who looked at him expectantly. Wesley took off his glasses, looking even more uncomfortable.

Xander glared at Giles. "I'm not telling you."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Then how do you expect us to find a cure?"

If looks could have shot fireballs, Giles would have burst into flames right now. Better yet, if Xander could have somehow turned the situation around and had _Giles_harboring a uterine parasite. That would have been more satisfying.

A soft hand rested on his thigh, and Xander found his rage melting at the sight of Willow's compassionate eyes. "C'mon, Xander, we can't help you unless you tell us everything."

He sighed despairingly. "Well, they're common pregnancy changes."

Buffy gave a supportive smile. "Would it be easier if we guessed?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

Silence fell upon the library like a smothering pillow. Willow squinted at the ceiling, deep in thought. Buffy dropped on a nearby chair and started tapping her lips. Wesley scratched his chin briefly, his hand aching to take off his glasses for the third time. Giles skimmed through his books as if looking for anything useful. And Oz rolled the pencil on the table.

"Oh my God," Xander exclaimed in shock. "Don't you guys know any pregnancy symptoms?" He couldn't believe that Giles and Wesley had never had 'the talk,' or that Buffy and Willow wouldn't have some idea of what pregnancy looked like. On the other hand, until a few weeks ago he hadn't known anything either, until he read books about everything pregnancy-related in the public library.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed on his forehead. "I-I certainly know s-some symptoms. I just…" He returned his glasses on and didn't finish.

Xander tilted his head, waiting.

Giles' lips trembled, and Xander's heart stopped beating. What embarrassing pregnancy fact was Giles unable to say?

Buffy bit on her lip awkwardly. "Have you experienced…missed period?"

He grabbed the biggest book nearest to him and held it over his head, wondering for a second whether he could beat her reflexes if he threw it fast. Buffy gasped, turning her fear-stricken face to Giles.

Giles took his glasses off, his ice-cold eyes promising pain and torture. "Put. That. Book. Down," he said in a low, firm tone.

Wesley grabbed the book from Xander's hand, forcing him to look at him. "Here's a very common symptom. What about cravings for certain foods?"

Xander shook his head. "No. I feel sick just thinking about food." Uh-oh, now he was getting all queasy. He started burping, which made Wesley yelp and jump back five steps. Giles stared in horror at the books spread on the counter and leaped into the danger territory. Xander thought it was the bravest thing he'd ever seen.

With one hand on his mouth to prevent an unfortunate accident, Xander unzipped his backpack's pocket and grabbed a lemon lollipop from the stash he'd been carrying for the last couple of weeks - and wasn't that embarrassing, too? The sour taste eased the nauseous feeling and gradually, he began to feel better.

Wesley released a shuddering sigh of relief. "Well, now that it's settled, I'm afraid it's time to think about more important matters."

Mouth stuffed with the lollipop, Xander frowned at Wesley. "Rude much?"

"Your condition is unquestionably abnormal, Xander," Wesley said. "But don't forget, the Ascension. The Mayor. Faith."

"I'm afraid Wesley is right," Giles said, returning the books to the shelter of their shelves. "What you're going through doesn't threaten the safety of the world."

Something inside swelled painfully. He felt betrayed as he stared into Wesley and Giles' passive gazes. "What if I was carrying the spawn of the devil?"

"We're not even sure you're pregnant," Giles pushed with an apologetic look. "Perhaps we should run some tests, know exactly what's going on with you."

Xander's nostrils flared in frustration before he hopped off the counter and grabbed his backpack. "Sorry I wasted your time."

His intention to storm out of the library was interrupted by Buffy's strong grip on his arm. He turned around, ready to order her to let go.

"Xander," Willow said firmly before he could say anything he'd regret. "There's only one way to figure out what's going on with you."

* * *

Sneaking into a hospital shouldn't have been this intimidating. He'd already snuck into morgues, funeral homes, and an army base, but this time being caught scared the living daylights out of him more than any time before. His bladder was about to burst from the bottles of water he had to drink on the way to the hospital, and it didn't help that he was getting ready in the bathroom – albeit by choice - as Buffy and Willow prepared the ultrasound machine for him outside.

He looked down at his pants and swallowed. He could do this. He needed to do this. With shaking fingers, he finally mustered the courage to unzip his pants and slide them down slightly below his hips. The blood rushed right to his cheeks when he caught a glimpse of a few hairs peeking out of his pants, and he unconsciously pulled them up again.

He pressed his forehead against the bathroom wall and groaned in embarrassment. He couldn't do this! Not with Buffy and Willow around. Not with anyone he knew. But it wasn't like he could do things on his own. He didn't know how to use an ultrasound machine. He should just be glad they weren't going for a pelvic ultrasound, even though he'd read that it was the preferred procedure in the early stage of pregnancy.

But this might not be a pregnancy, a persistent voice inside him said. He hoped from the bottom of his swollen belly that the voice was right, even though he'd seen all the signs that confirmed the opposite.

There were soft knocks on the door and Willow's voice drifted from outside. "Xander, are you ready?"

"I'm coming," he said in a trembling voice. There was no way out of this. He had to suck it up and get it over with. He rolled up the bottoms of his pants – to prevent floor-sweeping - before pushing his pants down below his hips. He held them in place to make sure nothing embarrassing was at sight.

Outside, Buffy and Willow were facing the wall, giving him his privacy. Their consideration was so touching that his stupid eyes started to water. He roughly wiped them with his arm and then carefully lay down on the bed, covering everything below his belly with the standard-issue white blanket and tucking its end underneath his pants.

"Okay," he whispered, not meeting their eyes as they turned around and walked toward him.

Buffy stood next to him and squeezed his shoulder. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Will?"

Willow turned on the machine. "After spending three hours reading about this on the net, I can confidently say, no, but it's not like we have a lot of options. And Xander didn't want Giles and Wesley involved."

Xander's lips twisted in displeasure. "You heard what they said. They don't think my pain is important."

Willow arched an eyebrow at him. "You didn't want Oz involved either."

"Yeah, well, I'm more comfortable around my girls." He flashed them a dopey smile, and they returned it. "Besides, they're not doctors."

"We can't have doctors," Buffy said, using her thumb to rub his shoulder in soothing circles. "Hospitals don't admit pregnant guys."

"Unless they're hermaphrodites, which when you think about it…"

Xander shot daggers at Willow. "Don't. Think."

"Hey, what's that dark line?" Buffy asked suddenly, pointing at his stomach. Had she just _looked_at his exposed skin? He blushed fiercely and wished he could just pull the blanket over himself.

Swallowing his pride, he focused his attention on the linea negra that ran from his belly button to his pubic bone. He'd read about it in a couple of books and had shaved the hairline under his belly button to get a better look. Needless to say, he'd almost fainted when he saw it. "That's what solved the mystery. That's when I knew I'm up the spud."

Buffy looked at him, impressed. "You must have read a lot of books."

"I had to. I didn't want to believe I was.. ahhh." The jelly Willow suddenly squeezed out on his belly jolted him. "That's cold."

"Sorry," Willow said absentmindedly, pressing the linear array onto his belly. He felt an uncomfortable pressure on his bladder and hoped to God he didn't wet his pants.

Messy dark colors meshed together on the monitor screen, giving out weird images he didn't understand. He'd checked out sonograms of fetuses in different stages before and he could tell if this was one of them, even a fetus in a very early stage.

Willow moved the linear array around his exposed belly, trying to get a better picture. There was a dead silence in the room as the three of them gazed at the screen in anticipation. And then, there it was, as clear as day.

Xander's heart sank and his mouth hung open.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the monitor. "Is that… is that a head?"

"Looks like it," Willow said. "I've seen this during my research. I think this is a sonogram of fourteen-week baby."

Xander's gaze was caught by the screen. A baby. This was a _baby_. Head, nose, vertebral column, in all its fetus glory. He, Xander Harris, was baking a baby in his man-oven.

"So, it's true," he said in a hoarse voice, swallowing thickly. "I'm… pregnant. I'm freaking pregnant."

Willow held his hand tight. "I know it's shocking…"

"No, you _don't_!" he snapped at her, feeling himself trembling all over. "This can't be. This isn't real. Men don't get pregnant. They don't have babies inside them."

Buffy cracked a shaky smile. "Well, technically they have the sperm, which in a weird way is the baby."

"I want it out!" Xander hollered.

"Keep your voice down, Xander," Buffy said with a finger on her mouth.

He looked between them, dismissing Buffy's warning. "This whole butt monkey big joke business has to stop! Do you have any idea what kind of crap I'm gonna get if this gets out?"

Buffy grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to lie still on bed. "Calm down," she ordered firmly.

Willow nodded in agreement. "Maybe if you tell us exactly how this happened, we can figure out how to fix it."

Xander struggled under Buffy's grip, frustration burning in his chest. "If I knew how it happened, I'd have put a stop to it fourteen weeks ago!"

Buffy looked at Willow over her shoulder. "How many months is fourteen weeks?"

Willow, distracted by Xander's overwhelming reaction, took her time to think about the answer. "Uh, three months and a half."

"Three months and a half," Buffy repeated Willow's answer with a force that stilled Xander. "That means that whatever caused this happened by the end of January. Do you remember what happened to you then?"

Xander blinked up at her. "January?"

"It's not your birthday," Willow said, looking at Buffy. "That was in the 19th."

"I guess it's when we stopped that apocalypse," Buffy answered. "I remember breaking my arm that night."

Breaking her arm? Xander thought with a frown. Oh. The apocalypse he wasn't invited to. "Wait, the apocalypse was in January?" he said in realization. "I… slept with Faith that night."

Buffy arched an eyebrow. "That doesn't make sense. Faith doesn't have, uh, sperm."

Willow shrugged. "Unless she was also a hermaphro…"

"Willow!" Xander and Buffy yelled in union.

Imitating Buffy before, Willow pressed a finger against her lips. "Shhh. Voices down."

"And that's not it," Xander said. "I was the one passing sperm that night."

Buffy lifted a hand. "Okay, a show of hands if you're totally grossed out by this conversation."

Willow scratched her head. "Maybe the apocalypse that night had an effect on Xander."

Buffy shook her head. "Xander wasn't anywhere near the Hellmouth."

"But Faith was," Willow pointed out.

Xander stared at the image of the fetus in the monitor screen, his breathing quickening and his mouth going dry. "We gotta tell the Watchers about this."

Willow smirked playfully. "Now you wanna involve them?"

"Whatever it takes to get this evil, apocalypse-conceived spawn out of me."

* * *

"Mom, we're back!" Buffy called as she and Xander walked into the Summers residence.

A fresh wave of nausea hit Xander as a strong smell wafted down from upstairs. Closing his eyes, he pinched his nose with his fingers and started inhaling and exhaling quickly. The loud thuds on the stairs made his eyes fly open, and he saw Mrs. Summers rushing down at high speed.

"Where have you been? I was worried," she said, her words addressing Buffy while she looked at Xander with concern.

"We snuck into the hospital," Buffy answered, also looking at him with a worried expression. He stopped what he was doing right away and began breathing through his mouth.

Mrs. Summers looked at Buffy in alarm. "You snuck in?"

Buffy shrugged. "We had to make sure… about Xander," she finished her sentence with a swift glance at him.

"Oh." Mrs. Summers threw him a glance as well. "And?"

Buffy nodded.

Xander started toward the living room, not only escaping the strong smell, but also Mrs. Summers' reaction to the news. Whatever her reaction was, it would hurt and upset him, and he was already too hurt and angry.

He stopped short when he saw the couch lacking his pillow and covers. He turned around. "Uh, Mrs. Summers?"

There was that warm smile again. The smile that could start the waterworks. Mrs. Summers laid a hand on his shoulder, gently directing him toward the stairs. "Come with me, Xander."

They were going upstairs? He gulped air through his mouth and followed her up obediently. The smell was growing stronger, and Xander feared he'd throw up at any second, trying to visualize something else to take his mind off the smell.

They walked into a room that was neither Buffy's nor Mrs. Summers'. Suddenly, Buffy gasped behind him. "Wow, Mom, what have you done to our storage room?"

"I've spent all day turning it into an acceptable guest room," Mrs. Summers said. "I couldn't let Xander keep sleeping on the couch."

Xander looked at the room in shock. It was slightly bigger than his own room, had less furniture, and definitely none of his crap.

"Do you like it?" Mrs. Summers asked.

"I…" His eyes fixed on the source of his distress, a fabric deodorizer in a baby blue pump bottle. He uncontrollably burped, smacking his hands on his mouth and dashing toward the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Xander and Buffy pushed the library doors wide open and stepped through. Willow sat on the research table, her dangling legs tangled. Her pouty lips and hunched shoulders made her look adorably pathetic.

"Why all gloomy, Will?" Buffy asked, dropping her backpack on a chair.

Xander grinned. "For a minute there, I mistook you for Angel." He winked at Buffy's look of disapproval.

Willow squirmed, throwing a nervous glance at him. "I, uh, I accidentally slipped and told Cordelia…" She trailed off, her gaze falling to his stomach.

Fear shot through him like a bullet, and he could feel like his heart was going to jump into his throat. "What?" he exclaimed in sheer terror. "How? Why? What did you exactly tell her?"

Willow shook her head. "Look, that's…"

Fear exploded into full-blown panic. "Willow, how could you do something so mind-blowingly stupid?"

Willow glared. "It doesn't matter."

"Not to _you!_But it sure as hell matters to me! Cordelia will tell everybody and my life will literally be over." He paced from side to side, arms flying frantically. Brushing his hair back he began to tremble. "I… I need to get out of here… before the entire school knows about this."

"Xander," Willow said firmly, giving him her resolve face, which completely shut him up and stopped him from pacing. She sighed then looked him right in the eye. "The reason you're pregnant… it was Cordelia."

* * *

Xander found Cordelia standing in front of her locker, gazing silently at one of the several college admission envelopes that rested inside. Poor unfortunate soul, having to make the tough decision of picking one of the colleges her daddy's money got her into. Filled with resentment, Xander smacked the door shut, enjoying the way she flinched.

"Hey there, Miss got-her-wish-granted," he sneered, feeling his rage blaze through his body like a fever. "I'm fat and miserable. Does it make you happy?"

Cordelia didn't respond, just stood there staring back at him. She looked calm, almost guilty and kind of grown up. That made his rage build up to a Yosemite Sam level.

"C'mon, give me your best shot." He spread his arms, giving her a full view of his body. "Go ahead. Get your jollies out."

Cordelia remained silent.

"Want some help? I'm so fat they'd need two picture frames to fit me in. I'm so fat my sneakers don't fit and I'm wearing sandals in winter."

"It's not winter," she corrected him quietly.

"That's not the point. The point is, now you can get back at me for what I've done. Fire up those jokes."

She sighed. "Xander…"

He held up a hand to shut her up, feeling the adrenaline course through his system. "Maybe you'd prefer some digs at my bruised manly ego. You've always loved those. Now when I run away from danger, I waddle." He demonstrated by swinging like a penguin. "Oh, and I've got a vagina, too, tentacle monster hidden behind my freaking balls."

A sharp slap cracked against his cheek, and for a second, he saw a wild flash of colors. His hand rose to cup his stinging cheek and he glared back at Cordelia.

Lines of regret were creasing her forehead. "I didn't want this to happen."

"Well it did. Thanks a bunch, Cordy."

"I didn't know Anya was a fairy," she said, the pitch of her voice rising slightly. "I was shell-shocked when her face went all wrinkly and gross…"

"And you didn't tell us," he interrupted her furiously. "You've kept it to yourself. You should have warned me."

Cordelia opened her locker again and placed the envelope in her hand inside. "I wasn't on speaking terms with you and your little friends back then."

"Except for a little jab now and then," he replied sullenly.

She smacked the locker shut in frustration. "Well, maybe you deserve a little punishment."

He winced, feeling an ache in his chest. "In no way is this little," he muttered bitterly, and the anger inside him started to boil up again. "Thanks to you, this baby has a psychopath of a mother who is playing pet to an evil mayor."

Her mouth hung open in extreme shock. "Faith? You slept with Faith?"

"I will never, ever forgive you," he said every word dripping venom. "I may have cheated on you, but what I did didn't have long-lasting consequences. You got back on your horse and you have a dreamy Watcher waiting to shower you with love. But this is it for me. Months from now I'll be a single father with no freaking future, no job and no home."

Cordelia stared back at him, a strange mixture of strength and guilt lining her face. The stabbing betrayal Xander felt at the moment, knowing that she was the cause of this, regardless of the circumstances, made it impossible to look at her face without breaking down. He wouldn't give her this satisfaction.

He turned around and started walking away, stopping when he noticed a senior holding up a corsage. He spun around, pleased with the droopy expression on Cordelia's face.

"Oh, and have fun at the Prom tomorrow," he said in disdain, watching her flinch at his words. "While you're standing there with your prom queen tiara, think about the pregnant idiot who is missing his own Prom because he's too busy throwing up in the toilet."

Cordelia just stood there, staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

"Doesn't that thought fill you with joy?" With one last look of contempt, he began making his way toward the library where his friends were researching an evil fairy named Anya.

* * *

The sound of the bedroom's door creaking open pulled Xander's head away from the dark sky he couldn't really see, even though he'd been sitting and staring out the window for what felt like forever.

Buffy peeked at him from behind the door, her face blurred by the dimness of the room. "You're still up?" she whispered, stepping inside. Hair pulled back, dark jeans and a stake peaking out of her jacket: signs of a Slayer ready for work.

Buffy placed a hand on the door knob and started pushing the door shut, but to Xander's surprise, she stopped midway, threw him a glance, and opened the door wider instead. The light coming from the hallway crept inside and irritated his eyes, so he went back to gazing at the sky, just now noticing the enormous number of glittering stars.

"Do you feel sick?" Buffy sounded concerned, something he was growing tired of. Lately, everyone showed him concern and worry, everyone expected him to vomit, everyone was extra sensitive around him. All he wanted right now was to be left alone - something he could never have here, something he'd taken for granted back home.

He heaved a long sigh. "No, your mom gave me those saltines. They're doing their job well."

A long, thick moment of silence followed; he was sure she'd already slipped out of his room and into the night. But then he felt her fingers brush against his shoulder, then clasp it tightly. His throat locked, and he knew he wouldn't remain composed if he looked at her.

"Xander," she said in a faint voice so as not to disturb the silence. "I know what you're going through… is unimaginably freaky. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here. You know that, right?"

He nibbled on his quivering lip and nodded, not trusting his voice to talk.

They'd finally figured out what caused this. There was finally a name. Anya. Everybody was at the library, reading and researching, even Wesley. But there was nothing in the books about a bad fairy named Anya. Oz had suggested that they were missing more specifics, which had driven Buffy and Willow to search for Cordelia all over the school. But she had already gone home.

"So, talk."

Xander jumped in his seat. "Huh?"

Buffy was still here, her hand was still on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

Xander stared up at her and swallowed. "Buffy, you have to go out."

"It doesn't matter."

He lifted his eyebrows. "I bet an innocent victim out there would beg to differ."

"It can wait. My friend is drowning and I'm here to listen." Her hand tightened its hold on his shoulder. "Talk."

He made a weak attempt to shrug her hand away. "And tell you what? That with everything happening right now I feel like…" The words got stuck in his throat, trapped there, and instinctively his mouth closed. He flicked his gaze promptly away from her, ashamed.

"Like what?"

He drew in a long sigh and then smiled up at her. "I don't do talk well."

"I've noticed." She smiled back kindly. "I don't do talk well either." She knelt down in front of him and placed both hands on his knee, looking up at him. "But you need it, Xander. If you don't open up, you're gonna do something stupid. Something you'll regret."

Captured by the strength in her eyes, he felt the walls he'd built around himself for years budging a little. Everything he'd known, everything he'd learned, had all been shattered the second Buffy had come into his life. She'd opened his eyes to a new world, a world where boundaries and expectations didn't matter. Where everything was possible… even male pregnancy.

He looked down at her small hands on his knee. They appeared delicate and weak, yet held him like a wrestler. As she knelt in front of him like that, she was the knight in the shining armor, providing him protection and safety. And he was… he was…

He bit so hard on his lip that he started tasting his own blood and promptly pushed her hands away with his large, feeble one. He turned his attention back to the stars, a newfound resentment growing inside him, filling him with bitterness.

Buffy got up on her feet and stood next to him. He'd expected her to give up and leave, but she kept standing in the same spot. Waiting. He wouldn't say he was surprised. That was Buffy, after all, always getting her way. That was why she survived this long. That was why she was the hero.

As the silence prolonged, he could feel how silly and trivial the whole situation was getting. He still couldn't bring his mouth to move, couldn't get those words out. From the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy crossing her arms around her chest, still waiting.

_Shit!_He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, feeling the fists his hands made trembling slightly. "When I was a kid, I tripped and fell down. I was holding a glass. The glass broke and I hurt my finger. I started to cry and my dad got upset, not because I broke the glass, but because I cried."

As words slipped out of his mouth one after the other, the knot in his chest began to unravel and his fists loosened a little. He opened his eyes and stared at Buffy. "Men don't cry, he taught me. Men are strong. Men get the girls. According to my dad's definition of men, I don't fit. Never did." He ghosted a hand over his lumpy stomach. "Just think how he'd react if he knew I've joined the pudding club."

Buffy opened her mouth to object, but he shook his head quickly. "C'mon, Buff, real men are like Angel. Obviously, you know that. It's why you're attracted to him."

Her mouth twisted in displeasure, probably because he went there. He'd mentioned Angel. For a long time, he'd held back from saying Angel's name in front of her. It was the only way he and Buffy were able to get along again. Drawing comparisons between him and Angel had never gone smoothly, had always ended up with her dismissing him with an eye roll or a warning glare. Angel always won.

Xander rested his head against the window glass. "I'm not a real man. I never will be. Especially after this." He rubbed on the hardness of his stomach, releasing a despaired sigh.

This was the first time he'd poured his heart out like that. He knew at some point that he should have stopped talking, but everything was rushing out of his mouth like opening the gates of prison. Feelings of embarrassment and regret twisted in his chest, and he wished he hadn't said anything. Looking at Buffy again frightened him; he could imagine the way she must be thinking about him right now.

"I think your dad's definition of real men is stupid." She paused. "No offense."

A shocked laugh rumbled through his chest. "Offend away. The floor is all yours."

She smiled. "What you're going through… I can relate." She walked past him toward his bed and sat on it. "I hated my destiny: going out all night, fighting monsters, getting dirt on my hair and clothes, breaking a nail..." She sucked on her finger pitifully. "You have no idea how much that hurts."

He gave a small smile.

Buffy lowered her finger to her lap and a wistful look crossed her face. "That's not normal, certainly not something girls do."

He shook his head. "It's different, Buff. I'd trade my life for yours with my eyes closed."

Her eyes hardened. "Oh, yeah? You want prophecies about being killed by an ugly ancient vampire? How about having the fate of the world on your shoulders, knowing that one mistake, one moment of weakness may cost someone else's life?"

"But you're respected, Buffy," he argued. "You have people's respect."

She stared at him like he'd grown two heads. "Do you go to the same school as me? In normal-people world, especially people for like Cordelia, slaying makes me a freak."

"It makes you a hero," he stressed, lifting his eyebrows in emphasis. "I wouldn't care what others think."

"And neither should you."

He scoffed and waved her off. "It's different. You kill a vampire and you're a hero, I carry a baby and I'm…" He let the sentence hang, feeling a knot in his throat.

"I think carrying a baby is as brave as slaying a vampire," Buffy said softly. "It's scarier if you ask me."

Xander scoffed again. "Slaying a vampire doesn't make you the laughingstock of the century."

"Nobody laughed, Xander," she reminded him gently. When he didn't respond, she released a sigh. "I know how hard it is. I've been fighting a losing battle for years now. You can't be someone you're not."

He grinned. "I can't be a man."

She rolled her eyes. "You are a man, Xander."

"The lump in my belly disagrees with that statement." He knocked on his stomach with his knuckles before turning his gaze back to the window.

And then Xander saw _him_.

The man. The hero. Standing outside in the night, looking smashing with his long leather coat and dark pants. Dangerous and mysterious. Like Batman. As a kid, Xander had always been Batman. He'd always called the shots, always saved the day, and always got rewarded. His nine-year-old self would probably commit suicide if he could see him now.

"Your date is here," he muttered under his breath.

There was no respond at first, and then seconds of silence passed by before Xander heard the mattress squeak and the door click shut.

He watched as Buffy walked across the yard to meet Angel at the door. Angel nodded his greetings and started to walk away. Buffy didn't follow him, instead she turned around and looked up at Xander.

He considered yelling "Happy slaying," but decided to wave a hand instead.

She waved back and then walked after Angel.

"Don't get killed," Xander whispered, lowering his hand and gazing pensively at them striding toward the cemetery.

"Hero."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

This couldn't be. This was beyond the point of humiliation. Xander wasn't much of a card player, and he definitely couldn't bluff to save his life, but losing in poker to freaking Stimpy? Especially with Giles mouthing his rival's numbers from his office?

"Wakey, wakey," Giles said playfully, except he didn't sound like Giles at all. He sounded exactly like Willow.

Suddenly, a bright light shone down on the Bronze and everything went white. His eyes flew open, and he found himself in bed, hugging his pillow with his blanket tangled between his feet, not covering him at all. Grimacing, he pulled up the covers, but his bare feet stuck out.

He felt the mattress shift as someone sat down behind him and a hand on his shoulder shook him gently. "Are you okay?" Willow's voice floated to his ear. "Mrs. Summers said you looked like you might collapse this morning, so she let you skip school today."

He pushed the covers away and gazed at her with a half opened eye. "Will?"

She grinned.

He rubbed his eyes, and scooted up the bed to lean against the headboard. "What are you doing here?"

"I was summoned to vilify and grouse. Or so I thought."

Xander yawned. "What?"

"Angel broke up with Buffy."

He frowned at her in the middle of his second yawn. "But they went patrolling together last night." Whatever he said was lost in his yawn-voice. He cleared his throat. "Everything seemed normal."

"He wants to leave town."

"Leave Sunnydale?"

Willow nodded.

Xander wasn't sure what to think. Getting rid of Angel was the first of his three wishes if he ever found his own thin-bearded, blue genie, but all he felt now on hearing the news was an uneasy feeling of discomfort. "How's Buffy doing?" he asked with concern.

Willow sighed. "Heartbroken."

"Can't say I'm shocked; he did it right before Prom."

"I know. It stinks. _He_stinks."

Xander chuckled. He'd never thought he'd live to see the day Willow would join him in a session of Angel-bashing.

The door clicked open and Buffy walked into the room. She smiled when she found them sitting together on the bed, but Xander knew that smile very well; he'd used it a hundred times.

"Hey, you woke up," Buffy said, joining them in the bed.

He nudged her shoulder gently. "How are you holding up, soldier?"

The fake smile disappeared at once. "So, Willow told you."

Willow's eyes darted between them. "I shouldn't have?"

"It's fine," Buffy said.

The three of them sat in a long uncomfortable silence. Everything was still except for Xander and Willow exchanging awkward glances. Buffy looked down at her hands. A couple of her fingernails were cracked in a way hardly seen on other girls' fingers. But then, Buffy wasn't just any girl.

Xander thought back to his conversation with Buffy the night before. While he was going through something that other guys would never experience, Buffy was destined to be someone not only girls, but all the kids her age would never even come close to understanding what she had to do.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said sincerely and he didn't just mean Angel.

Buffy looked grateful for the compassionate words. It made him realize how much of a jerk he'd been to her about Angel before.

She gave an easygoing smile. "Yeah, well, I won't let it bring me down. Tonight I'm gonna have fun at the Prom with my friends."

Xander pointed at her and Willow. "You two. I'm not going."

Willow smacked him on the arm. "You're not going to the Prom?"

"Ouch!" He rubbed the poor area and shook his head.

Buffy's smack was much more painful. "But it's the Prom."

He yelped and crawled out of bed. "Leave the poor pregnant man alone." Standing on his feet with a safe distance between him and his meanie friends, he pointed to his stomach. "Key word: pregnant."

"No one knows about that." Willow waved off his fears and concerns like they were a big pile of nothing.

"Cordelia won't keep her big mouth shut. Right now, the whole school is probably preparing an embarrassing moment for me at the Prom."

"You're gonna be alone on Prom night?" Willow said.

"It's fine." He forced a reassuring grin, and then looked at Buffy. "I'm gonna hang out with your mom. A late night soap won't drive me crazy."

* * *

Xander breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the safety of the kitchen. He grabbed a stool and parked his butt on it, rubbing his head with a groan. Loud voices emanated from the living room, and he knew if he listened carefully, he'd be able to hear Mrs. Summers' quiet sniffles and hiccups. What had he gotten himself into? Watching a soap he couldn't mock and suffering through Mrs. Summers' crying and cursing was not his idea of a good time. Plus the way she kept demanding tissues even though the box was right in front of her.

He jumped to his feet when the kitchen door burst open, and Buffy marched inside with a hard expression on her face. "I killed the hellhounds," she announced, dropping her bag of weapons on the floor.

He pumped a fist in the air. "You go, girl!" But when he saw what she was wearing, he raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you supposed to be at the Prom?"

"I left my dress here. And you're going to the Prom with me, mister."

He sighed. "Buffy…"

She grabbed his arms and looked right into his eyes. "We're going together. We're gonna dance and we're gonna have fun and we're gonna make a memory."

He jerked her hands off of his arms. "I don't have a tux."

"Yes, you do."

He spun around and saw Mrs. Summers standing in the kitchen door, smiling. "I rented one for you yesterday."

He swallowed; touched by the way her eyes twinkled with warmth. "I…"

Buffy grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him toward the stairs. "C'mon, we're already late."

* * *

Xander leaned back in his chair and smiled at Willow when she waved a hand over Oz's shoulder as they danced to a ballad. To his surprise, everything was going well. Nothing tragic had happened and no one had even noticed him, _yet_. The fact that no one even had glanced at him ought to make him feel suspicious. Knowing this school and its kids, he was sure something was cooking. Disaster was in the air, though not as strong as the stench of the egg sandwiches wafting from the buffet table. Queasiness alert! He smacked his hands over his mouth and looked up at Giles in alarm.

With wide eyes, Giles hurried to fetch some water, adding three ice cubes. He came back and handed the glass to Xander. Sucking on an ice cube was helpful, but not as much as a lemon lollipop - which unfortunately he couldn't have here unless he had a death wish.

Giles crouched down next to him and smiled. "Are you all right?"

Xander took a deep breath and nodded.

"It can be hard to avoid smells that trigger nausea. Is there something that helps beside ice?"

Xander looked at him gratefully. "Crackers. Something salty."

Giles nodded and stood up. "I'll search around."

Xander drank the cold water and wondered if anyone had noticed what had just happened. Everyone around him was busy with someone else, but that didn't comfort him at all. He'd feel more relieved and reassured if he could just spot Cordelia. If he could keep an eye on her, nothing would harm him.

He smiled when a grinning Buffy walked up to him and extended a hand. "May I have this dance?"

He accepted Buffy's hand and rose to his feet. "Who would say no to the Class Protector?"

She held up her chin with pride and escorted him to the dance floor where soft lights illuminated the swaying couples. He looked around at the faces that pressed against each other lovingly, the heads lying on the shoulders and the tender kisses planted on lips. This would have been so awkward had he still had feelings for Buffy, but right now the only person he felt comfortable dancing with at the moment was her.

He grinned down at Buffy and placed his hands on her hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and flashed him a bright smile. They started swaying to the music, gazing at each other's eyes, and slowly turning in a circle.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said.

"Seven," Buffy laughed.

He grinned in embarrassment, recalling how speechless he'd been when she'd walked out of her room in her Prom dress. He couldn't stop complimenting her, and while she jokingly kept counting the compliments, he knew she enjoyed them. He'd gotten compliments, too, from Buffy and Mrs. Summers, but obviously they were pity compliments. After putting on his tux, he'd looked at himself in the mirror; he'd gotten chubby around the neck and the bulge in his tummy couldn't be ignored.

Over Buffy's shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Willow and Oz kissing behind another dancing couple. He looked around at the familiar faces of his classmates. Harmony rested her head on Percy's shoulder, Larry smiled at a guy Xander didn't know, Scott Hope pressed his forehead against Aura's, and Aphrodesia locked her eyes with Devon.

"It's weird. I haven't seen Cordelia," he mumbled and searched around the couples for Cordelia. Instead he saw Giles waving to him at their table, holding a plate of crackers.

"Telling the girl you're dancing with that you're looking for another girl? Big self-esteem booster." Buffy's grin dissolved into a look of shock as she looked at something over his shoulder.

He followed her line of sight and noticed Angel standing at the door. Without a word, Buffy unwrapped her arms from Xander's neck and walked toward Angel.

"Now _my_self-esteem doesn't feel so boosted," Xander called after her, but his lips held a smile of satisfaction.

He turned around and walked back to their table to find Wesley sitting on his chair. The sarcastic remark he was about to fire died in his throat when Wesley's high-pitched voice got louder as Xander approached. "I couldn't find her anywhere. It just feels odd that Miss Chase wouldn't attend her own Prom."

Xander stopped short at Wesley's words and looked around the gym. Where was Cordelia? He saw Harmony on the dance floor and walked toward her, bumping against a couple on his way. He stood between Harmony and Percy. "May I cut in?"

"Hey," Percy exclaimed.

Xander placed a hand on Harmony's shoulder and held her other hand, taking the lead. She yanked her hand from his hold and shrugged his other hand off her shoulder. "No, you dweeb. I'd rather burn myself than dance with you." Her eyes widened looking at something behind him and she pushed him out of the way. "Percy! Wait!"

Xander saw Percy asking another girl to dance, but that didn't matter at that moment. He grabbed Harmony's arm and spun her around to face him. "Where's Cordelia?"

"You dork! You chased him away, and my God, what train did you swallow?" Her nose scrunched up as she looked down at his stomach.

Xander grabbed her shoulders and shook them. "Where is Cordelia?"

She pushed him away from her. "How would I know?"

"You're her best friend," he said in frustration.

"Not after she started dating you." Harmony rolled her eyes and dashed toward Percy and the girl he was dancing with.

Xander scratched his head. Had Cordelia not come to the Prom? That was impossible. Phone, he needed a phone. He strode out of the gym and walked down the halls toward the library. Pushing the doors open, he was stunned by what was right in front of him.

Cordelia. She was in the library, sitting at their research table. Her head jerked up at his sudden entrance, and she looked at him as if he'd walked in on her in the shower.

"Xander," she said. "I thought you were gonna spend the night vomiting at home."

"I thought you were gonna spend the night winning prom queen." He shrugged. "Guess both of us are chock full of surprises."

She didn't smile; she just looked away.

He walked toward her, recognizing the green dress she was wearing. "Didn't you wear that at Homecoming?"

No response.

He sat on the chair across from hers. "Cordy?"

"I don't have a new dress," she mumbled in a voice so low that if the library hadn't been dead quiet, he wouldn't have heard her.

He arched his eyebrows. "'Cause you already have all the dresses?"

"Just go away, Xander."

"No jokes. I promise." He scratched his temple. "So?"

She finally looked up at him. "Why do you wanna know so much?"

"If there's anything Buffy taught me, it's that this is our one and only Prom and we all should enjoy it."

Her lips were a thin line, but she didn't reply. She lowered her head, causing a stray lock of hair to fall on her face. She sighed and brushed the lock behind her ear. Old dress or not, she still looked stunning. Her hair pulled back into an elegant hairstyle. She wasn't wearing too much makeup, but then Cordelia didn't need makeup. She was just naturally beautiful, especially with that soft pout on her glistening lips. The lips that were firmly shut.

"Fine. You don't wanna talk. I understand." He gestured with his head toward the doors. "Can we go and dance?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I can't go like this. Everyone will…"

"Be busy having fun. No one is gonna notice. Believe me."

She looked up, meeting his eyes hopefully and he smiled reassuringly at her. Slapping his hands on his thighs, he got up to his feet and walked toward her. "C'mon, I'm up the duff and you're wearing a dress for the second time. Let's be freaks together."

She smiled, standing up herself. "Xander Harris, you're unpredictable."

"I surprise myself now and then." He offered her his arm and she took it without hesitation. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Attending a post-puberty all-girl slumber party had been one of Xander's wet dreams for years. The sexy lingerie, the pillow fighting, the oil wrestling, the long silky hair flying as the girls jumped in slow motion on the joined beds. Xander had two best friends, who happened to be girls, who had slept over each other's houses without inviting him plenty of times. He wouldn't lie and say that he'd never fantasized about what they did, or if they'd invited more girls. As far as he knew, Cordelia was the only girl they had invited to their sacred sleepovers. Xander had asked questions, but he'd only received eye rolls and head shakes.

Tonight, Buffy had suggested that the three of them sleep over in Xander's room. Xander, for his part, agreed with an enthusiasm of a puppy that had seen a Frisbee. He made sure he'd gotten everything they needed: pillows, oil, pudding, more pillows, an empty Cola bottle for a combination of Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare, and last but not least, extra pillows.

So far, ten minutes into their legendary sleepover, Xander was completely disappointed.

The stars of this sleepover were in white cow and pink pig pajamas, their hair pulled back to a messy – not the good messy – ponytail, and they were eating the _pudding_he'd bought for an entirely different reason.

"Did you see what Kevin did to Amanda?" Buffy asked with her mouth full.

"Yeah, the stupid poop! How could he do that at the Prom?"

Yes, and lots of gossiping. Lots of meaningless and boring gossiping.

"If I was Amanda, I'd have done something stupid, like pour the whole bowl of punch over his head instead of crying in the bathroom while he danced with another girl," Xander said, stuffing his mouth with more pudding.

Willow patted Buffy's knee with excitement. "It was so cool when Angel showed up. I thought I was gonna pass out."

"I'm glad you didn't do that to poor Oz, unlike a certain blondey who ditched me for Tall, Dark and Handsome in the middle of the dance floor." He directed a pointed stare at Buffy.

She chuckled. "I said I was sorry. And it's not like you were alone, I saw you dancing with Cordelia."

"Until Wesley showed up," he grumbled, stuffing more pudding than he should have into his mouth. Needless to say, he burped.

This time, fortunately, a plate of crackers, a glass of ice cubes and a stash of lollipops were right in his field of vision.

Xander shook his head. "No. Just ate too much." He leaned back against the pillows Willow had stuffed behind his back claiming that they made pregnant people – she made sure she hadn't said women – feel comforted. Xander mostly felt bloated. "And speaking of vomiting, I'm in my second trimester, which means that morning sickness should stop now. Why the hell doesn't it stop?"

"Maybe it's different with men?" Buffy said.

"I've read that it's different from one pregnancy to another," Willow said. "Some wom- eh, people don't experience morning sickness at all."

"Lucky them," Xander mumbled.

Buffy's eyes widened with excitement, forcing the piece of pudding down her throat and almost choking. She crawled to the side of the bed and pulled up a small paper bag. "Hey, I got you this." She handed him a cream tube. "You gotta apply it all the time or else you'll get ugly stretch marks all over your body."

Willow clapped her hands. "Oh, we're giving the presents now?"

Xander felt his face lit up, the cream tube put away all forgotten. "I get presents?"

Willow pulled up a plastic bag and handed it to him. "Large sized pajamas for your third trimester."

Xander looked inside the bag and grimaced. "There are ducks on them."

"And socks for your chilly feet." Willow moved closer to him and stuck a hand inside the bag, bringing out the socks. "Let me put them on, you can't reach them."

Xander snatched the socks from her hand. "I so can!" He threw the socks back inside in the bag and put it next to him beside the cream Buffy had got him. He sat back and waited for more presents.

There were nothing but the big grins on Buffy and Willow's faces.

"That's it?" he said incredulously. "Those are my presents?"

"Oh, wait till we throw you a baby shower," Buffy said, looking at Willow. Both of them squealed, "Bouncy seats!"

Xander swallowed, looking at their excited expressions. "I hate to burst your bubble there, girls, but… I'm not going through with this."

Their happy faces melted into looks of disappointment.

"We're looking for the evil fairy, remember? This Anya chick? Once we find her, we'll make her take back the wish."

"But, we haven't found anything about her," Willow said.

"I need to talk to Cordelia. Get more details." He wiggled to get more comfortable against the ridiculous number of pillows behind him. "I'm not gonna wait for Monday. I'll swing by her house tomorrow."

"Oh, you won't find her there," Buffy said. "I went to her house when we didn't find her at school the other day and it's up for sale."

Xander sat up straight. "What? Cordy's family moved out?"

"Probably," Buffy said. "I don't know where they've gone."

"Maybe we should ask Harmony," Willow suggested.

"She doesn't know jack about Cordelia." Xander felt something tightening in his chest as he started putting two and two together. Cordelia going to Prom in a dress she'd worn before, _"I don't have a new dress."_, keeping quiet about what was going on with her, and then he remembered the day he found her at a shop gazing longingly at a dress she _didn't_own.

* * *

Xander was glad he didn't waste his time getting lost to find the shop; then again, Sunnydale wasn't that big of a town. The April Fools dress shop- what a stupid name, Xander thought as he looked through the window. Cordelia was in there, glancing at the tags of some of the dresses. She took a dress off of its hanger and walked toward the other side of the shop.

Xander felt something squeezing inside him and he hesitated. He knew how proud Cordelia was; it was probably one of the reasons she didn't take him back after he cheated on her. While he'd enjoyed the snark match they always played, he couldn't bring himself to be insensitive now. He couldn't hurt her anymore than he already had. But he couldn't just walk away.

Placing a hand on his stomach, he took a deep breath and entered the shop. He looked around at the shopping women and racks of dresses before he started walking in the same direction Cordelia had taken. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her exiting the changing rooms, and he froze in place.

Cordelia also stopped short when she found him standing right in front of her, a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.

Xander smiled. "Hey," he said softly.

Cordelia brushed past him. "What do you want?"

He turned around, ready to follow her, when one of the dresses caught his attention – a long, slinky olive one. He took the dress from the rack by the hanger and pictured Cordelia at the prom wearing it. The image that played in his head twisted his heart painfully, knowing just how incredible Cordelia would have looked wearing it. He looked up from the dress to find Cordelia looking at him, her lips tightly shut in a thin line, obviously realizing that he was onto her.

"You, um, couldn't afford this," he said, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm also guessing you work here."

She nodded with a fake impressed look. "Very accurate. Now if I pat you on the shoulder, will you go away?"

"Listen," Xander said, putting the dress back in the rack. "I didn't come here to fight. I came here to say sorry, something I should have said a long time ago."

She tilted her head, arching a plucked eyebrow. "You're right. You are unpredictable. Now leave."

"That's…" he said, stopping her before she continued on her way. "That's not the only reason I came here."

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

Xander swallowed. "We're trying to find Anya to undo the wish. We just need more info. How did you meet and did she use something to grant you the wish?"

Her face softened into a sympathetic look. "Since you manned up and apologized, I guess I have to say sorry," she said, nodding toward his stomach. "For that."

Xander smiled.

Cordelia threw a quick glance at an older woman standing behind the counter. The woman was busy with another salesgirl. Taking the hint, Xander grabbed the dress again and asked in a loud voice, "Do you really think this dress will make her happy?"

Cordelia looked confused for a second before nodding with a cheery smile "Absolutely. Just give me her size and I can wrap it up for you." She moved closer toward the rack, skimming through the dresses. "It was a long time ago, I don't really remember," she whispered to him, taking a dress out of the rack and pretending to check on the size.

"Wait!" She pointed a finger at his face in enthusiasm. "She was wearing a pendant."

Xander gave her a look. "This is not the time for fashion tips."

"And the five seconds of smart reached their projected end," Cordelia said dryly. "No, dork-face. I think she used the pendant to grant the wish. She said that it was her good-luck charm. She let me wear it, but then made sure to take it from me before she disappeared."

"What did it look like?"

Cordelia was about to tell him when that old woman at the counter - Xander guessed she was the owner- walked toward them.

"Hey, Ms. Finkle," Cordelia said nervously.

Ms. Finkle threw a swift glance at Cordelia before regarding Xander with an impatient stare. "Sir, are you going to buy this dress or not?"

"Depends." Xander turned to Cordelia with a wink. "Do you still think it will suit my girlfriend?"

Cordelia shook her head with a horrified expression. "Oh. No. I mean, Prom is over. Your girlfriend doesn't need this dress anymore."

"Graduation is the next step. What goes well with a graduation cap and gown?"

"Nothing. They haven't decided on a color yet. I'm lobbying for the teal."

"I gotta buy her something. You don't know my girlfriend. She'll bite my head off if I walk out of here empty-handed." He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile.

She rolled her eyes. "She'll manage on her own."

"For God's sake, Chase," Ms. Finkle exploded in anger. " The boy wants to buy something, so let him buy something."

Cordelia snatched the dress from Xander's hand and pasted a wide grin on her face. "All right, Ms. Finkle."

Ms. Finkle's small eyes spotted another victim by the counter and left them to launch her attack elsewhere.

Cordelia sighed, putting the dress back. "You don't have to spend money on me anymore."

"If I don't buy anything, you'll be in trouble."

"I told you, I can manage." She gave him one of her rare genuine smiles. " Look, I'll draw that pendant for you and swing by the library after work."

"All right." Xander grabbed a red purse and walked toward the counter.

He smiled when he heard Cordelia's exasperated sigh behind him. "Xander!"

He stood in front of the counter, waving the purse at Cordelia before handing it to a satisfied Ms. Finkle. "It's for Mrs. Summers. She deserves something nice for her troubles."

Xander's heart gave out when he saw the price on the cash register. He looked back at Cordelia, who smiled in amusement.

"That's fine. All that money I saved for my road trip shouldn't go to waste." He flinched when Ms. Finkle extended a hand and fought the urge to kiss the dollar bills goodbye. He accepted the fancy paper bag that contained the most expensive thing he'd bought in his life and walked out of the store with a small smile on his face.

* * *

The view outside the window wasn't spectacular in any way, but all Xander could do was sit beside the window and stare. There was a burning rage inside that he tried to conceal by distracting himself with watching different people crossing the street. It didn't help, as most of them reminded him of his friends. That thin redhead right there looked so much like Willow, if Willow ever decided to get a spiky haircut and pierce her nose and eyebrows.

He banged his head against the window pane lightly, eyes firmly shut, imagining his friends in Sunnydale in their graduation gowns, holding medieval weapons and stopping the Ascension. He was worried out of his wits, making the fists on his lap tremble with frustration and fear.

"Do you want me to order you something to drink?" Mrs. Summers' kind voice drifted to his ear, dissolving some of the boiling rage inside him.

Xander shook his head, trying to get his rising emotions under control. It was hard when he felt trapped. Locked in a hotel room away from danger. Hidden away like some fragile princess in a tower.

He held in a sigh of irritation when he felt Mrs. Summers' hand on his shoulder. "I'm thinking about them, too," she said.

"I never… the waiting is killing me."

"How do you suppose I feel?" Mrs. Summers grabbed a chair and placed it in front of Xander before sitting on it. "My daughter is out there, fighting an evil Mayor. Meanwhile, I'm sitting in a three-star hotel doing nothing."

"But Mrs. Summers, you haven't been fighting alongside Buffy since the beginning. I was. I'm supposed to be there." He looked down at his lap. "Besides, it's my graduation, too."

"Sweetheart…"

"Yes, I'm pregnant," he spit out the words like they were something slimy in his throat. "But it's not like I'm keeping this damn baby. It doesn't matter if it gets hurt. And if I lose it, then good riddance."

Mrs. Summers looked disturbed by his burst of outrage. "You don't mean that."

He looked away, pressing his trembling lips tightly against each other. He hated it when he got close to breaking down. He'd always been good about keeping the tears in, but ever since he was cursed with this freaking baby, it had got harder to keep the tears from flowing.

"I have far more practice at being pushed out of harm's way," Mrs. Summers said gently. "It's not a good feeling. Time moves slower than usual, and your mind gets crowded with a lot of scary images, but having faith in Buffy helps. The thought that she'll come back, having saved the day again fills me with relief and pride."

Xander smiled. "She must make you proud a lot."

"Well, if it were up to me, I'd rather she was safe and sound at home. It's hard on a parent. If you have this baby, you'll understand what I'm talking about."

Xander looked down at his stomach and doubted he'd ever feel like that. He just had no emotional attachment to this baby. He wanted it gone. He hadn't told anyone, but he'd read about abortion several times. He was amazed at how much controversy abortion provoked among people. It was a subject he'd never thought about before, nor thought that he'd have to think about in the future.

"Speaking of which, your mother called."

The sentence took him off guard. "My mom?"

"She called me yesterday. She was worried."

Xander blinked. "My mom?"

"Yes," Mrs. Summers said with an amused chuckle. "She asked me if Buffy knew where you were."

"But… I told her I was going on my road trip."

"Yes, and Buffy left me a letter before she disappeared for three months," Mrs. Summers said pointedly. "You remember what it was like. The not knowing. The worrying. You've been away for a whole month without a phone call to tell your mom that you're fine."

He ducked his head in embarrassment at her look of disapproval. "Uh, what do you want me to do?"

"Call her."

"Now?"

"Why not? We have a lot of time to kill. We might as well use it for something important."

Mrs. Summers took the initiative of setting up the phone for him and now all Xander had to do was dial his home phone number. As he sat on bed with the phone ringing in his ear, he glanced hesitantly at Mrs. Summers. She gave him a supportive smile.

He couldn't explain to her the status of his relationship with his mother. How could she understand when she would make him and Buffy a plate of scrambled eggs in the morning? When she'd suddenly kiss Buffy's forehead at any time and any place. When she'd make sure she taped their favorite TV shows. When she'd check on him at night when he went to bed? At his house, they'd scream and curse and hit and drink a gallon of alcohol. They'd invented the definition of dysfunctional family. He wondered if his mom ever thought about abortion when she was pregnant with him, although no way would Grandma have allowed that.

Suddenly, he heard a click from the other line. "Hello?" The ever-slurry voice of his mother answered.

"Hi, Mom."

There was a pause. "Xander?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom, who else calls you Mom but me?"

"Where are you now?"

The question was so direct it made him stammer. "W-where am I?" He threw a fleeting look at Mrs. Summers who mouthed something to him that seemed to start with the letter M.

"Um, Missouri?" he guessed. Mrs. Summers shook her head. He shrugged, the damage was already done.

"Missouri?"

"Yeah, where they all speak like Goofy."

"They do have a goofy accent, don't they?"

"No, Mom, I meant Goofy. Remember the dog who hangs out with Mickey Mouse?"

"That dog doesn't talk."

"The other dog, Mom." His bored tone made Mrs. Summers laugh quietly, which made him smile.

"Today is your graduation day."

He blinked, feeling a painful knot inside. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"Of course, I remember. If you hadn't dropped out, you'd be there right now."

"I guess I would," he said ruefully.

There was a short moment of uncomfortable silence, and Xander considered saying goodbye and hanging up. But then his mother asked, "Are you having fun?"

He touched his stomach. "It's all right." Feeling a little overwhelmed, he blurted out, "I'll, um, call you again, when I get a chance."

"Okay."

"Bye, Mom," he said softly, putting the phone down. There was a mixture of emotions he wasn't used to swarming inside him. He was touched by the concern he'd heard in his mother's voice, there were… feelings behind her questions. He couldn't handle this right now. He was not used to this.

Mrs. Summers sat next to him on the bed. "That wasn't bad, was it?"

"No, it was nice actually." He flashed her a grin. "Thanks."

She arched an eyebrow. "Now, do you want something to drink?"

His grin grew bigger. "Sure."

* * *

The front door to the Summers' residence opened before Mrs. Summers could use her keys. Buffy threw herself in her mother's embrace, and before Xander could react, he got a bear hug from Willow. There was an air of gloom surrounding the house, and if it wasn't for the fact that they were alive, Xander would have assumed that the Mayor had won. When Willow broke the embrace, Xander noticed the huge bruise on her forehead and held her face in alarm, trying not to touch the purple color that ran down to her cheek. His gaze darted to Buffy, who had a small cut on her cheek but to his relief, nothing more dire.

Mrs. Summers had left them in the living room and went upstairs to empty their suitcases. Xander sat on the couch with his friends, listening to the gruesome details of the latest apocalypse.

"It was a big mess, Xander," Buffy said in a small voice. "I… can't believe we lost so many people."

"Larry is dead," Xander said in shock, still unable to process that he'd never see him again. True, Larry had bullied him throughout the years, and even though he hadn't picked on him at all after he came out in the locker rooms, they had never become friends. But still, he was a guy Xander knew, and the idea of not seeing him again was overwhelming.

"Larry, Percy, Harmony." Willow listed the names of the students who had died fighting, then paused. "Devon."

Xander clasped her hand and squeezed. "How's Oz taking it?"

"He's processing. He's quieter than usual. It's really depressing."

Xander rested his head back against the couch. "I'm glad Cordelia made it."

Buffy gave him a faint smile. "She said she'll swing by tomorrow before she leaves for LA. To say goodbye."

Xander nodded. Everything had changed. There was no high school anymore, literally, as the big building they used to hang out in most of the day had exploded in a huge wreck. Cordelia, who he was used to seeing every day was leaving Sunnydale tomorrow. Half of the people he knew had gone forever.

Xander turned to Buffy with sincere concern. "Angel…"

"He made it. He left shortly after the fight."

"Good." Xander's eyes locked with hers, and he could tell that she believed him.

"Yeah."

They sat in complete silence for some minutes, Xander's mind going through old memories that twisted his heart painfully. He was sure he'd be sitting up all night with his yearbook on his lap, looking at photos of all his classmates.

Willow suddenly sat up straight with a real smile. "In brighter news, I learned how to give foot rubs to your puffy feet."

"My feet are not puffy," Xander retorted.

Willow slipped to the floor, already taking off his shoes. "But, the pregnancy, they should be puffy."

"Well, they're not." He cringed when Willow slipped off his socks as well. He wasn't sure if she was just hellbent on giving him a massage or wanted a distraction from the painful events of their graduation. Xander pointed at his normal-sized bare feet triumphantly. "See?"

"They seem a little puffy," Willow insisted.

"Xander's feet were always this large," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Thank you!" Xander flashed her a bright smile, receiving a raised eyebrow. "For men, this is a compliment."

"Hey, look what I found upstairs." Mrs. Summers emerged into the living room with a large pink photo album in her hands.

"Mom!" Buffy jumped to her feet in alarm and with Slayer speed snatched the album from her mother's hands. "No! No, no, no, no!"

Mrs. Summers rolled her eyes and tried to take the book, but Buffy hid it behind her back and gave a threatening Slayer glare. "Don't."

Willow clapped her hands, sitting back up next to Xander. "Oooooh, a baby album."

Xander gave a mock leer. "A Buffy baby album."

Mrs. Summers finally succeeded on taking the album and walked toward Xander and Willow, leaving a petrified Buffy with an expression of betrayal on her face.

Xander took the book into his lap eagerly. "C'mon, I wanna see naked Buffy."

Buffy glared at him. "_You_would want that."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Little naked tushy."

Buffy covered her face in embarrassment.

The first picture was of a newly born Buffy, her face so red and puffy. "Oooh, cute!" Willow squealed next to him.

The next picture was of Mrs. Summers holding tiny Buffy in her arms. "Mrs. Summers you were a hottie," Xander said, and then amended quickly, "You still are."

Mrs. Summers smiled. "Thank you, Xander."

Xander and Willow awwed and giggled over different adorable pictures, including naked Buffy pictures. And then they exploded in laughter at a picture of a two year old Buffy walking with a trashcan over her head. "Oh, here comes the trash monster," Xander said through his laughter.

Buffy stared wide-eyed at her mother. "I told you to burn this one."

"But it's adorable."

Then came a picture of Buffy taking a wee-wee in a potty. Xander and Willow laughed again.

Buffy stomped her foot, just like the baby in the album would have, and crossed her arms with her lower lip puckered up. "This is not fair. I have to see your baby albums."

Willow gave an easygoing smile. "No big deal. I'll bring mine tomorrow."

Xander blinked down at a picture of little Buffy dressed in her mother's dress and her pretty puffy face lost in makeup colors. "I… I don't, um, have a baby album," he said. Something swelled up his heart. "Mom did take pictures, but most of them got lost. We're not big on the whole keeping memories thing." He didn't want to see their looks of pity, so he continued with a smile, "Which takes me off the hook. So yay."

Uh-oh. They were still looking at him sadly. His mouth opened but nothing came out. How to get out of this little sad-fest?

Willow, bless her heart, plastered a smile on her face. "Don't worry, Buffy. I have plenty of embarrassing Xander pictures from kindergarten."

"Oh, that's when the good stuff happens," Buffy said.

Xander smiled gratefully at Willow, feeling a hand squeezing his shoulder. He looked at Mrs. Summers and met her warm eyes again. Her destructive warm eyes. He escaped them quickly by looking back at the photo album, hating the effect Mrs. Summers always had on him in situations like this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Xander tossed in bed, his favorite sleeping position was on his stomach, and that was out. At least he was back to his bed in the Summers' home; sleeping was much harder at the hotel, haunted by nightmares of his friends being killed. Turning to the other side, he felt someone's presence in his room. Opening his eyes, he jolted up in his bed, his heart sinking in alarm. She was standing by his window, her face shadowed, but he could tell it was her by the leather pants and coat. She took a step forward and the moonlight eliminated her face.

"Faith," he said

She slapped the blade of her knife against her palm, approaching Xander in slow, intimidating steps. "Look who's here, the mother of my child."

Xander's heart sank even lower. "H-how…" He swallowed. "How did you know?"

"A little bird told me." He flinched when she stroked his hair. "It also told me you're planning on getting rid of it."

Xander wanted to go with a scoff but ended up whimpering instead. "Don't tell me you want this baby?"

"Shit, no!" She barked a laugh, her hand sliding to his cheek, pinching it so hard he winced. "Being saddled with the little brat for the rest of my life? No, thank you." She grabbed him by the chin and pulled his face close to hers. "I'm actually worried you're gonna change your mind."

Xander jerked out of her hold. "I'm not. I just need to find who did this to me."

"And if you don't?"

"Then I guess there's no other choice."

She released a loud maniacal laugh. "See, that doesn't really work for me." She jumped onto his bed, standing tall in front of him.

Xander's eyes locked with the glistening blade of her knife. "What… what are you…"

"I'm doing you a favor, pansy." She lifted the knife over her head, aiming it at his stomach.

"Oh, God, no. Faith, no! Stop!"

She leaped at him, driving the knife into his stomach.

Xander gasped in horror, jerking up in his bed, and with wide eyes, he stared at his dark, empty room. His hands frantically touched his stomach, and relief washed over him when he felt it round and hard. Brushing his sweaty hair back, he glanced at the window where she had been standing and a shudder ran down his spine. He tossed the covers away and dropped his feet to the floor. Racing to the door, he walked out of his room toward Buffy's room.

She was sound asleep in her bed. Xander padded toward her and shook her arm. "B-Buffy?"

She groaned in annoyance, opening one eye. When she saw him, she sat up straight. "Xander? What is it?"

"It's the nightmare again." He touched his stomach protectively, his other hand going to his throat as another unpleasant memory triggered in his mind.

"Oh." Buffy stared at him sympathetically. "You have nothing to worry about. I told you, Faith is in a coma."

"I can't, Buff. I need to see it for myself."

"You… you wanna see Faith?"

"I know it makes you uncomfortable after…"

"No, it's fine." She shook her head, leaning against the headboard. "I'll take you there first thing in the morning."

"I don't think I can wait."

Buffy glanced at the window. "It's too late now. Even for a Slayer."

Xander's hand locked on his throat. "I don't think I can sleep…"

"Do, uh, do you wanna sleep…?" her voice trailed off and her face flooded with red.

"That's the last thing my manly ego needs." Xander's cheeks turned a matching color at the thought. His sixteen year old self would have killed him for refusing her offer. "I'll be fine in my room."

Buffy nodded, still blushing.

Xander walked toward the door and held the doorknob, looking back at her. "Nighty night."

"Sleep tight."

"Yeah, right."

They stared at each other before breaking into a fit of giggles. Closing her door behind him, Xander threw a hesitant glance at his room, before deciding to go down the stairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. Maybe sitting in front of the TV watching a late night sitcom would help him dose off.

* * *

Xander walked behind the nurse silently, relieved that the horror of morning sickness was finally over or he'd be puking from the strong smell of antiseptic. Willow walked one side of him and Buffy on the other. He noted how sullen and guilt-stricken Buffy looked, knowing it was hard on her being in the same room as Faith. He'd asked her not to come, but she insisted she'd be with him, ever the overprotective Slayer.

The nurse pushed the door open for them and Xander walked inside. The sound of the heart monitor beeping was deafening.

Faith lay in bed, her face completely pale and bruised. There was an oxygen tube in her nose, other tubes in her arms, and more tubes tethering her to a frail and mindless life. The sight of her was so sad, so depressing. This was the woman Xander had slept with. The only one. She used to be so beautiful, in those tight leather pants and tight tops. Now, she looked like death.

"At least she slipped into something comfortable," Willow muttered, eying the dotted hospital gown. Xander wondered if she had magically read his mind.

"She slipped into something comfortable all right, a coma," Buffy said softly.

It wasn't right, but seeing her like this, unconscious and motionless filled him with a sense of… relief. He really hoped she wouldn't come to him in his dreams again.

"Xander?"

He sniffled, feeling the lines of wetness on his cheeks. "I hate it when I'm leaking."

Buffy clasped his right hand while Willow clasped his left one, squeezing in support. Xander gave a shaky nod. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Giles had called a Scooby meeting about some demon Buffy had encountered, which was a good distraction from all the pregnancy exercises Mrs. Summers was forcing Xander to do. Since he couldn't attend a class, Mrs. Summers had bought him a video tape called _Labor of Love Childbirth Class_. And if he was too embarrassed wearing a pair of maternity pants, the picture on that tape alone brought his macho rating down a notch. Four hours of detailed instructions about everything to do with childbirth wasn't the only thing he had to endure. He wasn't allowed to go out of the house, or to lift anything heavier than a spoon; he wasn't even allowed to eat fast food anymore.

Mrs. Summers had sternly objected to him going to Giles' house for research from fear there would be a stray vampire on the way. However, Buffy, his other mother hen, had sworn on Mr. Pointy that Xander would be nowhere near danger. Leaving the house was so refreshing after being cooped inside for a whole month. He enjoyed the way the fresh air tickled his skin, the smell of the trees, and the way the breeze rustled the leaves. He would've enjoyed it more if Buffy hadn't been pushing him toward Giles' house without a moment's pause.

It was just the four of them, what with Angel gone for good, Cordelia moving to LA, Wesley fleeing to England, and Oz having a gig. The whole thing would have hit its nostalgic prime if they had been the library, but since there was no library anymore, Giles' apartment was it.

"Can you describe that demon again?" Giles asked Buffy. He wandered over to the table to pick up one of his seemingly infinite supply of musty reference tomes.

"Big. Slimy. Growly."

"Yes, that does distinguish it from the other big, slimy, growly demons we've faced before."

Xander scrunched up his nose at the disgusting details in the book he was reading. "This is hellacious." He slapped the book onto Buffy's lap. "Buff, read this and tell me if I can read the rest without gagging."

Buffy took a look at what was written and gasped in horror. "Childbirth? Not reading it." She flung the book back to Xander's lap, causing the book to close.

"Childbirth?" Giles said with a hint of hurt. "I thought this meeting was your chance to take a break from pregnancy-related activities."

Xander flipped through the pages until he found the page he'd been reading and pushed the book toward Buffy. "Read it."

"Why? What's in it for me, other than more visuals to haunt me?"

"I need to read this stuff to be prepared," Xander said.

Buffy crossed her arms. "I thought you weren't going through with the pregnancy."

"I'm not. But it's been a whole month since graduation, and we haven't found anything about Anya." He tried the puppy dog eyes; even though he knew he could never pull them off, not even with Willow. "C'mon, just see if it's too gross."

"I'm your gross calculator then?"

"You're my best friend."

"Oh, he brings out the big guns." She reluctantly took the book. "You owe me big. Like brain bleach big. But instead of the pain, it's tasty goodness."

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Willow, would you tell these two not to muck about?" He returned his glasses on and frowned when he didn't get a response. "Willow?"

Willow was sitting with her legs crossed on the floor, completely engrossed in the book in her lap.

Giles peered at what she was reading and then grabbed the book quickly out of her hands. "What is this?"

Willow snatched the book back, her cheeks a nice shade of pink. "Uh, UC Sunnydale course book?"

Buffy tossed the childbirth book back into Xander's lap and bounced toward Willow. "Oh, what have you got?"

"Buffy?" Xander said, indignant.

Willow grinned at Buffy, showing her the page she was reading. "I was reading about Modern Poetry. Check this out."

Giles hung his head and then turned to Xander. "Am I the only one who cares about catching this demon?"

Xander stared wistfully at a giddy Willow describing the college courses to a grinning Buffy. Something inside him tightened as he noted the distance between where his friends were sitting and the couch he was sitting on. He could see how they were slipping away from him - going forward toward a bright future with so many possibilities. He'd known a long time ago he wouldn't be able to get into college, and even if one of those colleges had accepted him, his parents wouldn't be able to afford it. Not that he was dying to get into college in the first place, but it did pain him that he wouldn't be with _them_.

He wasn't going to be part of their world anymore, and that scared him more than anything. He used to be able to get through all the college talk before by bragging about his exciting road trip after graduation, and now he had nothing to talk about but maternity pants and his frequent visits to the bathroom. How exhilarating. He smacked the book in his hands shut with a huff.

The strong action must have done something to his stomach because something kicked his bladder hard. "Oh God," he said with a gasp.

Giles noticed his distress. "Xander? Are you all right?" That attracted Buffy and Willow's attention.

"Something… happened," Xander said, looking down at his stomach.

Suddenly, his belly stretched from different angles like a bag of popcorn that had popped inside his stomach.

"Oh my God," Willow said, tossing the book in her lap aside and racing with Buffy toward him.

Giles adjusted his glasses, taking a close look. "Perhaps that's the baby kicking."

Buffy and Willow squealed.

Xander swallowed, his eyes locked on the little ripples in his muscles. He'd been feeling these little bubbly movements for a while, but always dismissed them to feeling gassy. He'd just finished the fifth month of his pregnancy, so the kicks were getting noticeably sharper now.

Feeling another kick on his bladder, he winced with a laugh. "Wow, that feels… weird."

Willow sat next to him with a bounce. "Can I touch it?"

Buffy sat on the other side. "Me, too!"

"Uh, sure."

Buffy and Willow's hands were on his stomach in an instant. They squealed when the baby kicked against their hands.

Xander caught Giles out of the corner of his eye taking off his glasses again and cleaning them in embarrassment. He looked like he wanted to ask for permission to touch his stomach as well, but didn't dare to. It was a rare plus side of Giles' stuffiness.

* * *

Xander was surprised to find Giles' front door locked. He wondered if Giles hadn't returned from England, seeing as he hadn't answered Xander's numerous phone calls. But Xander had seen Giles' plane tickets before his departure for England and he was supposed to have been back today- six hours ago.

Xander turned to Buffy, but instead of receiving a matching puzzled look, he found her staring wistfully elsewhere. A ball of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that Buffy would rather be at the Bronze with Willow and Oz than be his personal bodyguard, walking him to and from Giles' apartment. If Mrs. Summers hadn't been pulling an all-nighter at the gallery, she would have driven him to Giles' place herself.

Biting on his lip, he knocked and stared at the door. There was no answer. "He probably didn't come back," he said softly. He wished he hadn't insisted on going to Giles' place. Buffy would have been at the Bronze now and he wouldn't have felt so shitty.

"Xander," Buffy said, looking up. "Someone's inside."

He looked up at the window on the second floor. The light was on and there was a moving shadow. He began to knock again, stopping right after the fourth knock. _Idiot_! Trying to get the thief's attention? What if it was a demon?

Buffy gently pushed Xander out of the way and took a couple of steps back, about to kick the door open when Giles opened the peephole and looked out at them.

"Buffy? Xander?" Giles blinked in shock. "Wh-what are you, uh, doing here?"

Xander flushed in embarrassment. "You, um, said you found a couple of important books on fairies at the council. So, I came here to help with the research."

"That's, uh, very considerate of you. But I've already read half of one of them."

"I'll read the other one. After all, it's my problem."

"Oh, uh, I'm quite busy at the moment."

Buffy frowned. "Why aren't you opening the door, Giles?"

"Uh, what?"

"Why are you keeping us out?"

"Oh, I'm just… it's not a good time."

Buffy crossed her arms and smirked. "Since when do you have a bad time?"

Xander could see Giles rolling his eyes through the peephole. "I do have a private life, you know."

Xander grinned. "Giles, you dog, _that_private life?"

"Well, uh, yes."

"Too bad. If you'd answered your phone, we wouldn't have come," Buffy said pointedly. "I'm not going to make Xander go home after making him walk all the way here for nothing."

Xander could see the embarrassment reflected very clearly in Giles' eyes. "All right. Wait." The peephole slid shut.

Xander and Buffy waited in silence, and Xander began to shift his weight from one foot to the other. It was a hot night, and even though he was only wearing one oversized shirt, he still felt like he was baking. He grimaced when he felt himself sweating. He'd read about the hormone changes and extra blood supply flowing through the skin to help increase the body heat and bake that bun. It was the worst part of being pregnant in hot old Sunnydale. Couldn't he have moved to Alaska?

"God," Buffy said in disgust.

Xander started fanning himself using his collar. "What?"

"I'm having visuals."

Giles was taking a long time. If he had a woman there, they would probably both be busy putting on something decent before opening the door. What if Giles had been naked when he was talking to them just now?

Xander squeezed his eyes shut. "Now _I'm_having them. And they're bringing the old barfy feelings I don't miss."

On cue, Giles finally opened the door and ushered them in, uncomfortably silent. As he walked inside, Xander looked down, hoping he wouldn't catch something he'd regret seeing for the rest of his life. At least Giles was wearing a flannel shirt and sweatpants.

"Hello," a feminine voice with Giles' accent greeted them. Xander looked up to see an attractive woman in a sweater and jeans smiling brightly at him. If only he could suck his stomach in and change into something that would make him look dashing instead of this washed-out shirt and the maternity pants. But then, he'd always had a lousy track record with attractive women, especially older ones.

Giles stood next to the woman awkwardly, and Xander noticed he wasn't wearing his glasses. "Uh, this is Olivia. She's an old friend; we ran into each other in England."

"Rupert was in such a hurry to go back to sunny California, I thought I'd join him," Olivia said with a meaningful stare at Giles.

Unfinished business, Xander thought, and then he wanted to puke. Apparently, not as much as Buffy did. Her lips were twisted in apparent disgust as she looked between Giles and Olivia.

"Buffy and Xander were students of mine," Giles said, reaching out for his invisible glasses and looking exasperated when he didn't find them. "Excuse me," he said, dashing up the stairs.

Xander dreaded being left in an awkward silence, so he opened his mouth to blurt out something that he knew he'd probably regret. But Olivia saved him the embarrassment by walking toward the kitchen area and asking, "Do you want me to get you some orange juice?"

"No, thank you," Xander and Buffy said in unison.

He felt the heartburn threatening to bite again. He'd had to give up so many foods and drinks that triggered it. God, he wanted this nightmare to end.

The nightmare started to kick at his stomach in protest. He stared in alarm at his stretching stomach and tried to shield himself from Olivia behind Buffy. He pressed against Buffy so tightly that she jumped when the baby kicked against her back. She turned to look at Xander with wide eyes, mouthing, "Now?"

He shot her his best glare. It wasn't like he had any control over this.

When Olivia came back, Xander and Buffy plastered innocent grins in their faces. Olivia looked at him in amusement. "Are you all right?"

He thought he must have looked ridiculous clinging to Buffy's smaller frame like a giant baby monkey. He let go of Buffy at once, taking a step back. "I'm fine."

Olivia's eyes widened in shock when his stomach tilted from side to side. To his relief, Giles was walking down the stairs. "Uh, could we get the books we came here for?"

Giles looked between them in confusion, and then noticed the way Olivia was staring at Xander's stomach and scurried toward a couple of suitcases that were placed next to the door. He unzipped the larger one and threw out a couple of shirts and ties until he brought out two large books and handed them to Xander and Buffy. "Here they are. Have a safe trip back home."

Xander and Buffy fled out of the apartment.

* * *

Soft knocks on the door made Xander blink awake. He rubbed on his eyes to clear his foggy vision and looked down at the large text on the dresser. His bedroom was dimly lit as sunlight shone through the curtains and reflected on his bed.

"Xander?" Buffy's voice was muffled by the closed door.

"Come in," he said through a yawn. His head throbbed from lack of sleep and his reflection in the mirror wasn't flattering at all. His lower back ached from sitting on the chair for so long and his arms were numb from holding his head like a pillow.

Buffy walked into his room in her pajamas. "You didn't sleep yet?"

"I dozed off a little." Xander yawned again and closed the textbook on the dresser, resting his head on it and closing his eyes.

"Did you find anything?"

"No. I reread your book after you left and there was no fairy with the name Anya and no fairy with a magic necklace."

"Guess Giles has to go back to the Council for more books, then."

He didn't respond, as he was enjoying the sensation of having his eyes closed after a long night of reading. He felt Buffy's hand on his arm, attempting to pull him up to his feet gently.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed," she said.

He pushed himself upward but he didn't stand up; he remained sitting on the chair and looked down at the book silently.

"Xander?"

"These two books were our last chance," he said in a low voice.

"What do you mean?"

Fighting through the headache, he touched the book cover with his fingers. "I mean… I may be stuck with this baby."

Buffy crouched next to him, her hand on his arm squeezing gently. "Xander, we'll find a way."

"I don't think we will, Buffy. It's been months."

Buffy let go of his arm and stood up. "So, you're going through with this?"

"Is there any other choice?" He looked up at her, feeling something pinching in the back of his eyes. As his emotions began to overwhelm him, he looked down at his stomach. "I… I kinda knew… some part of me did."

"That you're going to have the baby?" Buffy asked softly.

He swallowed, sliding his hand from the book to rest on the firm roundness. "Buffy, I'm so scared."

Buffy knelt before him and lifted up his chin until he was looking her in the eye. "I'm there for you. All of us are."

"I'm gonna be a father," he said with a quivering lip. "I don't think I'm ready. No, I _know_I'm not ready." There was that detestable lump in his throat and he could feel the tears starting to build, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves.

"What about adoption?" Buffy suggested. "I know it's not gonna be easy, but it's an option."

More inhaling and exhaling. He wasn't sure if he could keep the tears from falling. He didn't want to lose it in front of Buffy. He was relieved to hear the sound of the front door opening downstairs. "That's your mom," he said quietly so that she wouldn't hear the quivering in his voice.

Buffy seemed to get the message. She got up to her feet and walked out of the room.

He seized the moment and let the tears flow. He took a shuddering breath. Reaching for the tissues on the dresser, he dried off the tears as quickly as possible. His mind began to focus on something other than his evident childbirth in his future: Giles and his new girlfriend, or maybe friends-with-benefits kind of girlfriend. The icky images were much easier to take than the horrifying thoughts of being responsible for a baby.

He knew that staying in the Summers' house was only a temporary solution, despite Buffy's reassurances. But with his less than stellar home life, going back to his parents probably wasn't an option, especially with a baby in tow. The baby needed a stable home so it would never experience the problems he'd faced growing up.

He could sign off the baby to an adoption agency as Buffy had suggested. He'd be free then. No responsibility over a bundle of vulnerability. And the baby would be with a much better family.

He blinked when Mrs. Summers walked into his room with a glass of water. He avoided her eyes and took the glass from her hand, pouring the icy liquid into his throat and feeling himself relax slightly. The cold water must have stirred the baby awake, as Xander felt gentle thudding against his stomach that increased into stronger kicks.

"The baby is kicking," Mrs. Summers said softly. "Press on the side of your stomach."

He did as he was told and got a kick on that side. He pressed again and got another response from the baby. That brought a shaky smile to his lips, and he looked up to Mrs. Summers.

She nodded. "How does it feel?"

He pressed on his stomach once more and got a big response: a kick on his bladder. "Makes me wanna pee," he said with a laugh and jumped to his feet. He thought of hugging Mrs. Summers as a thank you, but the thought made him blush. So, he just smiled his thanks and hurried toward the bathroom.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Xander scrubbed the cereal bowl thoroughly, making sure the food remnants were gone. Suddenly, he felt short of breath and dizzy, so he quickly put the foamy bowl in the sink and sat on the chair he'd prepared for emergencies. He shouldn't have stood for so long; he'd always gotten lightheaded doing house chores, something he was keeping to himself, 'cause if Mrs. Summers knew about this, she'd have him locked in his room and tied to bed for the next few weeks. He tried peering at his poor swollen feet, but the large mound of stomach blocked his view.

He'd gotten really big - so big that moving for a minute made him almost pass out. Everything hurt: his lower back hurt, his ribs hurt, his ankles hurt, and his chest burned really badly. He couldn't possibly understand why some women would do this all over again by choice. Being pregnant sucked.

After a long process of inhaling and exhaling, he thought he could go back to work. He stood up with difficulty and turned on the water, washing the lathered soap off the bowl.

The kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Summers walked inside. "Oh, Xander, I'm still uncomfortable about this."

He shook his head. "You promised you'd let me work here until I get a job after the baby comes."

"But working as a housemaid…"

"_Not_a housemaid. A handy man."

"How is that an improvement?"

"It just sounds man-friendly." He grabbed the towel and wiped the wet bowl. "Besides, me doing all the housework gives you more time for your afternoon pottery classes."

Mrs. Summers brushed her hair behind her ear awkwardly. "Oh, about that, I think it's time you know the truth."

He placed the bowl in the drawer. "The truth?"

"I've been meeting with a midwife," Mrs. Summers explained. "She's teaching me all I need to know about how to deliver a baby."

His heart sank. "What?"

Mrs. Summers helped him sit down, which was what he needed as he could feel himself becoming woozy again. "We can't take you to the hospital when the day comes." Mrs. Summers smiled at him reassuringly. "A woman Mrs. Anderson is seeing is very close to going into labor, and I'm expected to deliver her baby under Mrs. Anderson's supervision…"

"You…" He felt his breath starting to come in quick pants. "You're gonna…"

"I know how uncomfortable this sounds, but the time is approaching and I thought I'll tell you now to help you get emotionally prepared."

He blinked, feeling his mouth going dry. "I need… I'm going to my room."

Mrs. Summers sighed and helped him up to his feet. He walked slowly toward the foyer, then held the railing for support as he climbed up the stairs. He pushed the door to his room open, steadied himself with a hand on the dresser and took a long deep breath. Turning around, he locked the door and then walked toward the closet, fetching a medium sized silver mirror from inside. He threw the mirror on the bed and slipped out of his pants and boxers. Lying on bed with difficulty, he spread his legs, picked up the mirror and positioned it between them, holding it up with his knees.

Oh God, he thought, feeling his cheeks burning in shame. Mrs. Summers was going to see _this_! She would see his penis and balls and vagina! He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back against the headboard. Ouch. He rubbed on the back of his head with a wince.

He was in the thirty-sixth week of his pregnancy. Only four weeks were left before his due date - his ultimate nightmare. Thoughts about that day had been haunting him since he'd entered his third trimester -the pain of pushing a person out of him, the agonizing contractions, lacking the strength and stamina to bring the baby out, needing surgery, _dying!_He was scared shitless. He'd read about several cases of women dying during labor. He'd gone through the causes of their deaths and the results weren't comforting at all.

Now, he had to worry about showing his package to Mrs. Summers. What if he had an "accident"? God, that would be so humiliating.

Putting the mirror aside, Xander stretched out his legs and propped himself against the pillows. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to calm his nerves. He remembered that old black and white movie he'd watched with Mrs. Summers a while ago. What was its name? Oh, _The Good Earth_. The scene he remembered vividly was when the pregnant wife had locked herself in her room and delivered the baby by herself.

Xander wondered if he had the courage to do something like that. Could he lock himself alone in his room and give birth? He didn't even have the courage for labor itself. The whole thing was too freaking scary. He wondered if someone else cursed with being pregnant instead of him would handle it better. How would Buffy handle it? She'd told him it scared her, but he knew that if it were her instead of him, she'd have gotten the job done without breaking a sweat. He had to be strong. Be like Buffy.

"Ouch," he said with a small laugh, feeling the baby kick at his rib cage. "Don't do that," he said softly as he watched his stomach stretch and change shape. The baby kicked at his side and Xander lost himself in a gale of giggles. "Stop, that tickles!"

Someone knocked on his door.

Xander flustered and covered his exposed lower half with a blanket. "Mrs. Summers?"

"No, it's Buffy." She pulled on the doorknob. "Your door is locked."

"Wait!" Xander flung the blanket away and fetched his pants, kicking his boxers under the bed. He wobbled toward the door exactly like a penguin – served him right for jinxing himself with this imagery and making an ass of himself in front of Cordelia.

He unlocked the door and pulled it opened. "Buffy? Didn't expect you here 'til Friday."

"Your baby shower? Wouldn't miss it for the world." Buffy pumped against his stomach when she attempted to hug him. "Oh, hey there, little one." She patted his stomach as if ruffling a little boy's hair and then walked passed him.

Xander noticed a big bruise on her cheek that makeup didn't cover. "Rough night?"

"Yeah, well, you know, Slayer and all." She flung herself on his bed and hugged his pillow. "My room is full of crates and boxes. Can I lie down on your bed?"

"Mi casa is su casa."

Buffy took the silver mirror from where it was on the side of the bed and threw an amused look at Xander. Feeling his cheeks darkening with embarrassment, Xander turned toward the chair next to the dresser and sat on it, steadying himself by holding the back of the chair. He sprawled out his legs to make room for his large stomach and watched Buffy put the mirror on the nightstand.

"How's college?"

Buffy rolled until she was lying on her back and stretched. "Very hectic. Not so much with the fun."

"How come?"

She stared up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. Xander was about to ask her if she was all right when she turned her eyes toward him. "I'm sucking at everything: college, slaying," she said in a small voice. "I'm a complete failure."

"Can we say exaggerating?"

"Not really." She lifted herself up on one elbow and rested her head on one hand. "I can't do it, Xander."

"College?"

"Everybody else is adjusting well. My adjusting skills are pretty much lacking. I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"Still guessing college?"

"College, slaying, everything." She said the last part pensively, staring off into the distance.

Xander shifted in his seat. Something was off about this picture. This wasn't the Buffy he had just been imagining. He put his hand on the back of the chair and pushed himself up to his feet. "Okay, college, I get. But slaying?"

Buffy sat up straight, looking indignant. "Hey, what do you mean college you get? What's there to get?" Despite her huffy outburst, she helped him sit on the bed.

"It's a new thing you never did before. Of course, you're gonna freak out." He patted her knee in support. "But you'll get through this."

She shook her head and then dropped her gaze down sadly. "I don't think I can."

"Lose the pout, Buff. Doesn't suit you."

She pursed her lips harder. He rolled his eyes. She giggled. "Okay. What look suits me?"

"This." He did his impression of Willow's resolve face making Buffy laugh more. "Except more Jodie Foster from _The Silence of the Lambs_."

"Right." She giggled some more before composing herself. "Like this?" Her expression froze in a hard, cold expression.

"Oh, yeah, that's the one." He pretended to snap a shot with his fingers. "Just picture your face like this in the morning and you'll do just fine."

Buffy grinned. "Look at you, all selfless and gentleman-y with a pep talk. This is the first time my issues trump your issues."

"Oh, speaking of which…"

"Here we go."

He slapped her arm with a mock glare. "Hey, pregnancy is a big deal."

"I know. Sorry." She crossed her legs on his bed and waited.

Xander scratched his temple, feeling his whole body flush with embarrassment. "Your, um, your mom is gonna…" He grabbed the pillow and covered his face, continuing fast in a muffled voice, "…deliver the baby."

"What? Who? How? Oh, oh my God the baby is coming." The pillow was snatched and tossed away and Buffy stared at him, her eyes wide. "And we can't take you to the hospital! Oh, Xander, how scary it must be for you."

"I know! And you were jabbering about your pitiful college woes. Drama queen much!"

"Hey!"

"I'm so fat I'm going to explode any minute. My back is killing me and I can't breathe. I can't eat anything I want or else I'll get heartburn. My feet and legs are no different than an elephant's, and my uterus has expanded…"

Buffy yelped and covered his mouth. "Xander. Visuals. Sensitive gag reflex."

"Right. Sorry," he said into her palm. After a second thought, he pushed her hand away from his mouth. "Yeah, right. Sensitive gag reflex my ass."

Buffy gulped.

"This is from the girl who faced tentacley mother bezoar and got covered in disgusting blue gunk?"

"Mom!" Buffy jumped to the floor and scurried out of the bedroom.

"Hey, that's not fair. You know I can't catch you. You're a toothpick, plus Slayer speed. I'm a wobbling weeble wobbles." Sitting alone on his bed, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Come back _here!_""

* * *

Xander was jolted awake by a sharp leg cramp. He hissed in pain and bit on his lip, leveraging himself onto his elbows and clutching the covers tightly. His leg shook as if caught by a volt of electricity. He tried stretching his calf muscle the way Mrs. Summers had taught him back when he'd had his first leg cramp: leg strengthened, heel first, and toes flexed back toward his shins. Pain exploded in his leg from moving it during the spasm, but Xander put up with the pain, knowing from experience that it would eventually go away.

God, he hated being woken up like this almost every night. He'd gotten so big that his poor legs were crying out for mercy. Maybe he should listen to Mrs. Summers and stop doing house chores. It didn't feel right though, sitting around and mooching. He was going to be responsible for a kid soon, so being a grown up and earning money was a top priority. And he couldn't live in the Summers' house forever.

He felt the spasm easing gradually and tried to lift himself more to see his leg over the hill that blocked his view. The troubling thoughts that tumbled in his head made him stop trying and he dropped down, his head falling on the pillow.

It was a bad move.

He couldn't breathe. Xander gasped for air and quickly turned to his side. He still couldn't breathe. He pushed himself up with difficulty until he was sitting upright. Taking deep breaths he felt the air flowing to his lungs. Rule number one, never sleep on your back or inability to breathe could be a factor. Rule number two, _never_forget rule number one.

Xander lay down on his left side, but still felt suffocated, so he sat up again and rubbed on his forehead in exhaustion. This had never happened before: he'd always made sure to sleep on his left side and he never faced this problem. It felt like his stomach was pressing against his lungs and throat. He really needed to sleep, especially since his friends were coming over tomorrow for the baby shower. He hadn't seen them much since they had started college.

Wasting no more time trying to figure out how to sleep, he headed toward Mrs. Summers' bedroom. He hesitated before knocking on her door, wishing he'd checked the clock first.

The door opened revealing a yawning Mrs. Summers, who looked at him questioningly.

"I can't sleep."

"Are the Faith nightmares back?" she asked sympathetically.

"No, I literally can't sleep. Breathing becomes an issue when I lie down."

"Oh, I can help you with that." She walked back inside her bedroom and came out with a couple of pillows tucked under her armpits.

Back to his room, she arranged the pillows into a little mountain and then helped him settle on the bed. Xander leaned back against the pillows, feeling himself still in the sitting position. He pressed back against the pillows, trying to get into a sleeping position, but the pile of pillows prevented them that luxury.

"Wow, so from now on I have to sleep sitting up?"

Mrs. Summers smiled. "Until the baby arrives."

"Swell," he said dryly.

She sat beside him. "I'm just joking. You'll probably be able to go back to sleeping on your left side tomorrow."

Xander breathed through his nose, enjoying his ability to inhale and exhale easily in this position.

"Do you feel better now?"

Xander nodded and smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you."

* * *

When Xander came down the stairs, he almost jumped out of his skin at the shrill yell of "Surprise!" that emanated from downstairs; his friends must have mistaken this for a birthday party. The first thing he saw was the yellow helium balloons scattered across the ceiling with Tigger's grinning face on them. Buffy guided him to a chair with a bunch of yellow balloons tied to it and yellow chalk words on the back, which he squinted to read.

"Chair of Honor," Buffy said. "Arranged for the expectant father."

Xander sat down, noticing four wrapped gifts on the table and a yellow bag with a drawing of a baby on it. Yellow streamers festooned the living room and posters of Tigger were hung on the walls along with a big Tigger banner with "Welcome Baby Scooby" written on it.

"Sorry for the simplicity," Buffy said.

"Simplicity?" Xander said incredulously.

"If I had let Buffy handle the whole thing, we'd probably have to sell the house to pay off our debts," Mrs. Summers said, walking into the living room with a tray of cupcakes with Willow and Oz following her with juice and glasses.

"Mom, this is the first baby in our small Scooby family. There's no such thing as over the top."

Willow set the glasses on the table and took the tray from Mrs. Summers and brought it to Xander. He took one of the cupcakes and stared at the top that was decorated with Tigger. "So I'm guessing Tigger is the theme?"

"He's your favorite Pooh Bear character." Willow walked with the tray toward Oz and offered him a cupcake. "Besides, his orange color was the perfect match to all the yellow."

Xander stared at the presents and tried to remember Jamie's baby shower in _Mad About You,_but all he could remember from that episode was Paul's struggle for manliness and making an ass of himself on the macho road trip. At this point, Xander's points on the macho scale were non-existent. He had been looking forward to the baby shower, he was learning how to push and he was eager for the crib Mrs. Summers would bring tomorrow. Even so, he was surprised to realize that being manly hadn't been one of his priorities lately.

They ate the cupcakes, drank the juice and talked about the baby shower games they were going to play. Then Buffy got impatient.

"Can we open the presents now?"

"Mr. Giles isn't here yet," Mrs. Summers said.

"Giles is too uptight for a baby shower." Buffy grabbed an elegantly wrapped gift. "Let's open my present."

"Buffy," Mrs. Summers said sternly.

"C'mon, Giles won't mind if we start without him." Buffy handed the gift to Xander, and he struggled with opening it without damaging the fancy wrapping. It was a shame to ruin someone's hard work in a snap. The present was snatched from his hands, and Buffy tore the fancy wrapping into tiny shreds. With a satisfied smile, Buffy placed the Eeyore baby box that clashed with the Tiggerness of the room onto his lap.

He opened the box and was greeted with lots of adorable baby clothes, most of them in white and beige with a couple of green bundles of baby suits. He gushed over the tiny little socks. There were so many clothes in there. He wondered if Buffy had been saving for this gift since they'd learned he was pregnant.

"The pink onesies were so adorable but I was forced to buy unisex." Buffy glared at her mother.

"You are not sneaking into a hospital again. Besides, Xander can't leave the house. Especially at night."

Willow sat next to him and went through the baby clothes with him. "I tried to find the right spell to tell us the sex of the baby," she said, showing him a cute beige beanie. "My search went up in flames, literally. I was trying this spell on a box with an apple inside, but the box caught fire."

"You are _not_setting me on fire."

"Funny thing is, nothing happened to the apple."

"Still, no."

"Willow's present!" Buffy announced bringing another box. Xander closed the box on his lap and set it aside, taking the new box from Buffy. He noticed her bright expectant grin and gave her the box back, and she tore the wrapping off in a second. He looked at the picture of the happy baby sitting on a green baby bouncer seat and playing with the dangling toys.

"Bouncy seat," Willow squealed, leaping to her feet and bounced over to get the yellow bag. "I also got you diapers and baby powder; 'cause I know you won't think of buying them."

He peered inside the bag with a grin. "Willow Rosenberg, the eternal mom."

Oz took a small box and handed it to Xander. "Here's mine."

Xander tore the simple green wrapping and smiled at the wolf-shaped rattle.

Willow clapped her hands. "Isn't it the cutest rattle ever?"

"I want to be the first one to shake this at the baby," Oz said in an even voice that lacked any emotion, but Xander could tell how excited he was from the glint in his eye.

Xander nodded. "You got it."

Buffy got the last gift. "And this is Mom's…"

Mrs. Summers snatched the box from Buffy. "No."

"Why?" Buffy whined like a kid who had been denied her Christmas present.

"I'd rather wait for Mr. Giles." Mrs. Summers retuned the box to the table.

"C'mon, Mom, Giles doesn't like presents. They're too much for his Britishness."

The front door burst open and Giles dashed into the living room in excitement, which melted directly into a look of hurt when he noticed the shreds of wrapping paper on the floor, the opened presents and the half-empty tray of cupcakes. "You started without me?"

Everybody looked accusingly at Buffy, especially Mrs. Summers.

The hurt vanished from Giles' face in an instant and he looked at Xander with enthusiasm. "Oh, Xander, I have great news."

"It better be really good, 'cause I don't see a wrapped box in your hands," Xander said, his eyes locked on the old book in Giles' hands.

"A what?"

Xander held up the baby rattle box. "Your baby present, Giles. Unless that dirty, old book has instructions for tucking a baby in at bedtime, I'm expecting a check with my name on it."

"You didn't get Xander a present?" Willow asked in shock. Buffy crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Even Oz's passive expression twitched in disbelief.

"I most certainly did."

"And it's…?" Xander said wryly.

Giles held up his chin. "Advice."

"How very Scrooge of you."

Buffy shook her head. "If you didn't spend money, Giles, then it's not a present."

Giles waved them off. "Oh, I don't think there's any need for that."

Buffy gasped. "You can't say that to an expectant mother."

Xander shot her a death glare.

"Or father?"

"But that's the thing," Giles said. "Xander doesn't have to be a father anymore."

The room went into a serious state of silence. Xander didn't believe his ears. He stared at Giles speechless.

"Giles?" Buffy ventured. "You mean…"

"Anyanka, Patron Saint of scorned women." Giles opened the book to a marked page and walked toward Xander. "This is the sketch of the pendant Cordelia drew. It's the symbol of Anyanka."

Xander stared at the picture. "So, she's what exactly?"

"A vengeance demon. She grants wishes to scorned women."

"And Cordelia being scorned, 'cause…" Willow trailed off and threw a guilty glance at Oz. A muscle in Oz's jaw worked but he stayed silent.

"Anyaka granted Cordelia's wish," Xander said. "And now I'm eating for two."

"But you won't be anymore. Here." Giles sat next to Xander and pointed at a written text, then started reading, "'In order to defeat Anyanka, one must destroy her power center. This should reverse all the wishes she's granted, rendering her mortal and powerless again.'" Giles looked at him with a big smile on his face. "Without her, you won't be pregnant anymore. You will go back to the way you were."

"A directionless loser," Xander mumbled.

"Exactly," Giles exclaimed. He blinked. "I mean, no, you will be normal. Don't you want to be normal?"

The silence returned to the room and everybody stared at Giles as if he was the Grinch. Xander felt Giles squirming next to him and snapped out of his overwhelming feeling of sorrow. "God, of course I wanna be normal," he cried out. "I mean, c'mon, this is crazy. A man pregnant with a baby…" he trailed off, and then forced himself to continue in an unconvincing small voice, "… that's insane."

Willow looked at him with her huge sad eyes. "But… the baby kicking. The baby clothes."

"I don't want this baby, Will." He patted his large stomach for emphasis. "We established that a long time ago."

"How do we get Anyanka here?" Buffy said in a quiet voice, regarding Giles with a hard stare.

"I haven't found a way yet. I was so enthused when I found this book." Giles looked around at the sad faces. "Honestly, I thought you'd be thrilled."

"I am thrilled. I'm beyond happy." Xander forced a cheerful goofy grin. "This freak show is finally over." He looked down at the wolf rattle. "I guess you'll just have to return your presents."

Buffy nodded. "The party is over."

"We should probably head to Giles' place. Research Anyanka's power center," Willow said quietly.

Xander felt a twinge in his heart, as he looked at his friends' droopy expressions. "Thanks, guys."

Oz smiled at him and took his present from his lap. Buffy and Willow took their boxes and followed Giles out of the house.

The house was eerily quiet after they left, the only sound Mrs. Summers gathering the shreds of wrapping paper on the floor and tossing them in the trashcan. Xander pushed himself to his feet and started collecting the dirty glasses and putting them on the tray.

The silence was getting on his nerves, so his mouth started running in forced jollity. "I can't wait to get rid of this. Do you have any idea how much this baby has held me back? I'll be free! No responsibility. And I can eat whatever I want. Whoohoo!"

Mrs. Summers took the cupcakes tray and started walking toward the kitchen. "I'm glad you're happy."

Xander couldn't tell if she was really glad or was being polite, but her words cut like a knife. He hated feeling like a scumbag. This was supposed to be his choice. They shouldn't make him feel bad like that because they wanted this damn baby.

He crouched to take the drinks tray when he noticed Mrs. Summers' present on the table. He walked around the table and lifted the box . He opened the bunny card and read, "I'm looking forward to the day you'll be holding your baby in your arms. You're going to be a great parent."

Xander's throat locked and he wasn't sure if he could muster any joy for Giles' news.

"I guess there's no need to open it now," Mrs. Summers said, walking toward him and extending a hand to take her present.

Xander looked down at the bunny card again. "Oh, I… I mean, since I've seen all the other presents."

"You want me to open it?"

Xander nodded in embarrassment.

Mrs. Summers took the present from his hands and unwrapped it. Xander's heart almost gave out when he saw a beige baby photo album covered with brown dots and in the middle a square shaped white material with a knitted rocking horse. He took the photo album in his hand, feeling the rocking horse with his thumb.

"I thought it's something you'd like to have," Mrs. Summers said softly.

There was a heavy knot in his throat, and Xander cleared it. "It's beautiful."

"It's a shame to return it." Mrs. Summers took it from his hands and stared at it wistfully. "I guess I'll keep it for Buffy."

She put it down on that table and resumed cleaning the living room. Xander stared at it for a while, feeling his chest tightening. He sighed and continued to help Mrs. Summers with the cleaning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The baby kicked again, but this time it didn't hurt his ribs or tickle his sides. It was mostly muscle twitching. It felt… it felt like something stinging his eyes. There was a kick against the palm that rested on his stomach and his vision became foggy with tears. The baby was moving more often lately. It kept reminding him that it was there, alive and kicking.

Xander took a shuddering breath and dried his eyes. He tried to focus on the people passing in the street, going on with their lives, unaware of how lucky they were. He used to be one of them, normal and carefree, until he was turned into a reverse Quasimodo with a hunch-stomach, locked in his own prison, making staring out through windows his favorite hobby.

He looked over at the large textbook on the dresser, where Buffy had left it yesterday, closed and unread. They had found out how to summon Anyanka, but when Giles had performed the spell, Anyanka had gotten mad that she had been summoned by a man and disappeared in a flash. Willow had tried to summon her later, but Anyanka wouldn't appear, knowing there was no scorned woman to grant a wish for. So, now they were back in research mode. How could they prevent Anyanka from disappearing and keep her around long enough to snatch her necklace and destroy it?

A whole week had passed since their last attempt at the spell, and he couldn't muster the will to help with the research. He couldn't even muster the energy to do the house chores anymore, much to Mrs. Summers' relief. All he felt like doing was sitting around and moping. Some people might think he was suffering from pregnancy depression, but Xander knew better.

He closed his eyes and sighed as the baby kicked against his hand. He sat there for some time before hearing the door click open.

"Xander, lunch will be ready," Mrs. Summers said. "Do you want… are you all right?"

He forced his eyes to open and nodded. "I'm fine."

Mrs. Summers threw a swift look at the book on the dresser. "Did you find anything in there?"

He paused before shaking his head. "No. Nothing useful."

She walked over to the dresser and opened the book. "What did it talk about?"

He shrugged. "Some stuff that had nothing to do with what we want."

"You haven't read it, have you?"

"I did," he protested weakly.

Mrs. Summers closed the book and walked over to him. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

He sighed and looked down at his stomach. "I don't feel so good."

"Are you dizzy?"

"No."

"What is it?"

His hand danced as his stomach tilted and changed shape. "The baby keeps kicking."

"And it hurts?" Mrs. Summers asked in concern.

He nodded.

She walked behind him, and then he felt her hands massaging his shoulders in an attempt to relax him. "It's natural for the baby to kick a lot when you're close to labor."

The baby demonstrated its agreement by kicking even harder and the constant reminder that there was a person inside him, a person who responded to his taps, reacted to cold water, moved at unexpected moments, made it so hard for him to breathe.

He held in his breath when Mrs. Summers clasped his shoulders tightly. "Let's just go down and have some lunch."

He nodded. "I'll go to the bathroom first."

* * *

He sat silently at the kitchen table, looking at his reflection in the stainless silver spoon that rested untouched next to his plate. He could see why Mrs. Summers had been pushing so hard for his retirement from house chores. The silverware had never looked this shiny and clean in his glorious handyman days.

"Why aren't you eating?" Mrs. Summers asked, setting her spoon on the table.

He wished he could use the heartburn excuse, but Mrs. Summers had made sure to fix him a lunch he could eat. It was too late to pull out the morning-sickness excuse, but as he reached for his own spoon, he could feel himself getting nauseous.

He startled when he heard the creaking of the front door being opened and the sound of footsteps rushing into the house. Buffy dashed into the kitchen and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Xander, this is it!"

"What is it?" he asked, noticing Giles and Willow hurrying toward the living room with paper bags in their arms. Oz ran into the kitchen with a large golden goblet and put on the stove. Xander had seen that goblet before, when the gang had summoned Anyanka the week before.

Buffy tightened her grip on his arm and dragged him toward the living room, but her hands became gentle when helping him sit on the couch. She hurried to join Giles and Willow, who were in the process of emptying the bags. Xander tried to sit upright to get a better look at the contents of the bags, but felt an uncomfortable pressure on his ribcage. He leaned back and stretched out to give his stomach more room and hopefully not upset the baby.

Resting his head on his shoulder, he glimpsed Giles holding a jar with a dead frog in it, which he didn't remember them using before.

Mrs. Summers walked into the room. "You've found a way to keep the demon from disappearing?"

"Better," Buffy said. "I got dumped."

He and Mrs. Summers shared shocked looks.

"And we did find a way to keep Anyanka here," Willow added, with an awkward glance at Buffy.

He pushed himself to sit upright, despite the way the baby squashed his ribcage, and looked down at the bags and bowls of various herbs and powders that were laid across the living room floor. He looked away in disgust when he caught Giles separating a frog's skin from its body. He wasn't a big fan of that since they'd had to do it in science class.

"Honey, I'm sorry," Mrs. Summers said sympathetically.

"It's fine, Mom." Buffy started setting up some candles and gesturing to Willow to shut the curtains.

"Who was he?" Mrs. Summers asked.

"Does it matter? The important thing is that Anyanka won't ignore us now with a scorned woman in the mix." A candle slipped from Buffy's hand and fell on the floor. "C'mon, Giles, help me set this up," she snapped.

Giles straightened the candle silently.

Willow pulled the curtains shut when Giles started lighting up the candles. She stood next to Mrs. Summers, looking at Buffy hesitantly. "His name is Parker. He was a real jerk."

"Will, help us out!" Buffy snapped, again.

Willow jumped. "Okey dokey!"

Oz came in from the kitchen with the now-steaming goblet and set it in the center of the circle of candles. Giles pulled bits of the herbs from a bushel and dropped them into the goblet.

Buffy sat with her legs crossed inside the candle circle and laid the large book in her lap. "Oh, Anyanka, I beseech thee," she said in a firm voice and turned a page. "In the name of all women scorned, come before me."

Giles added more herbs into the fire and accepted a bowl from Oz, which contained ashes mixed with some stuff Xander didn't want to know. He certainly did not want to know if they were small pieces of the frog's skin. Instead, he looked around the dim room, trying to detect where Anyanka would appear. His heart skipped a beat when he found her standing behind the TV. She walked slowly into the dim light of the room.

"This is not a trick," Anyanka said, approaching Buffy. "I can tell you've been hurt."

Giles swiftly scattered the ashes in the bowl all over Anyanka.

"What?" Anyanka yelled. "What did you do?"

"You're stuck with us." Buffy rose to her feet and snatched the pendant from Anyanka's neck. "Can I borrow this?"

"Give it back," Anyanka roared. "What are you going to do with it?"

Buffy placed the pendant on the serving table and pulled out a rock from one of the paper bags. Anyanka leapt at Buffy and punched her in the face, sending her staggering across the room.

Oz grabbed the pendant before Anyanka got to it and tossed it to Willow, who in turn tossed it to Giles, who threw it back to Buffy.

"You fool!" Anyanka snapped at Buffy. "I could grant you any wish you want. Don't you want to see the bastard hurt?"

Buffy's face became pensive for a second, but completely regained its resolve when Anyanka started marching toward her, ready to attack.

Buffy dodged Anyanka's punch and kicked her in the stomach, making her fall down next to Xander on the couch. He yelped when the ugly demon was inches away from him. His baby seemed to have sensed his fear and started kicking inside him. He wrapped his arms around his stomach protectively.

Anyanka didn't seem to notice his distress as she lunged at Buffy again. Buffy spun and kicked Anyanka's face.

He winced at a sharp kick against his bladder, followed by stronger kicks on the lower half of his stomach. Leaning back, he hoped that giving the baby more room would make it relax. But the movements didn't stop. Instead, tiny feet started pummeling his belly button. He looked at Mrs. Summers who seemed to be engrossed in the fight to notice his distress. It felt like the baby was trying to poke through his stomach. He laid a hand on his stomach and started running soothing circles to calm the baby down.

Suddenly, Anyanka landed on his feet, causing him to yelp again. Giles and Oz jumped on her, holding her in place.

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, throwing the rock to her.

"No!" Anyanka shrieked, and the baby's kicks inside him increased and sharpened. The demon's cry tore his attention away from the pain and he stared in horror as Buffy held the rock high and started bringing it down to smash the pendant.

"Buffy, no!" he screamed, feeling his baby's last kick against his palm.

Buffy stopped and looked questioningly at him.

His eyes widened in alarm and his heartbeat raged in his ears. He held his breath and felt the hard kicks inside start to weaken. "Don't… don't take it away, please," he said, staring straight at Buffy.

Buffy threw a glance at Anyanka, who was fighting a losing battle against Giles, Willow and Oz, then looked back at Xander. "This is our last chance to take back the wish. Are your sure about this?"

He looked down at the slight tilt of his stomach before giving her a shaky nod.

Buffy tossed the rock away and gestured for the others to let go of Anyanka. They looked at Xander hesitantly, and Anyanka seized the moment and knocked them off of her. She crawled quickly toward her pendant, seized it and dashed out of the house.

He gasped, feeling a punch against his ribcage, which wasn't as uncomfortable as the stares he was getting. He looked around at the mess in the living room, at the hot liquid that had spilled from the overturned goblet, the remains of the dead frog that strained the carpet, Giles' broken glasses and his own tilting stomach.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, trying to avoid looking at the large bruise on Buffy's jaw.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, made worse by the constant kicks inside his stomach.

"All right," Mrs. Summers announced lightly, walking into the room with trash bags. In all the chaos, Xander hadn't noticed her exiting the living room. "Time to clean up this mess."

Everybody took a bag and started working. Xander tried to stand up, but Willow pushed him gently back on the couch. She smiled at him. "We've got it covered."

He blinked at the smiles that were plastered on his friends' faces. Buffy even began to whistle. He smiled as well and looked down at his now-still stomach.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

Xander was really starting to abuse the inhale-exhale strategy, to the point that it stopped working for his benefit. He hissed and leaned his head back against the couch, running his hands all over his super-hard stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut as the cramps got stronger, and to his dismay, the only workable way to decrease them was to go to the bathroom. Again. His life lately was nothing but trips to the bathroom every five minutes; he couldn't even sit through the _Late Night with Conan O'Brien_. But that wasn't really just because of the cramps.

"Xander, you don't look so good," Mrs. Summers said as she walked in with a tray laden of juice and two glasses.

"I haven't been catching up on my beauty sleep lately." He wiggled to get in a more comfortable sitting position. "A six-month coma ought to be enough."

Mrs. Summers set the tray on the serving table and hurried to sit by his side. "Your blood pressure might be high again."

"No, it's the contractions," he said with a wince. "They're getting stronger and more frequent."

All week he'd managed to put on a brave face and hide the pain from Mrs. Summers by putting into practice what he'd learned from the childbirth tapes. But right now the pain was unbearable, and his brain cells weren't functioning at all. It was as if everything he'd learned had just vanished out of his memory. Mrs. Summers held his hands and helped him crouch on the floor in a squatting position. He grunted throughout the contraction.

"Is it better now?" Mrs. Summers asked, rubbing his back as she crouched next to him.

He nodded through an exhale. "Yeah."

Beads of sweat gathered in his forehead and slid down his cheeks to his jaw line, dripping to his clenching fists on the floor. He felt pinches of pain in his lower stomach that began to spread upward, changing into hard, intense pain. He groaned loudly and felt Mrs. Summers pulling him up to his feet, holding his hand and making him walk around the living room. The pain eased somewhat and he was able to breathe again.

He shot Mrs. Summers a grateful smile that she didn't see. She was looking ahead, lost in thought.

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked at him questioningly.

"You've got your I-have-something face on. I've noticed it for a while but I've been too busy trying to breathe to ask. What's the what?"

"I've been thinking…"

His grunt of pain interrupted her, and they were back to crouching on the floor. Through his inhales and exhales, he heard her continue. "After the baby is born, why don't you move in?"

He blinked, feeling the pain diminishing. He shook his head. "Mrs. Summers, I've overstayed my welcome…"

"Not at all," Mrs. Summers protested.

"You're just saying that. I've been a big burden these past six months. You wouldn't want to be saddled with an unemployed high school graduate and a baby. Shit!" He clenched his teeth and dug his nails in his palm as the stabbing pain started again.

"I'd love to have you both here." Mrs. Summers helped him up to his feet again. "Look, you told me you can't go back home with the baby. And with Buffy off to college, it gets really lonely around here."

"I, uh… uh…" He jumped out of his skin when the baby kicked hard and then something popped. He blinked, feeling fluid leaking into his pants.

Mrs. Summers frowned at him when he stopped walking all of a sudden. "More painful?"

"No, it's… guh!" He felt the fluid sliding down his thighs. "I think I'm going through a my-waters-broke moment." He snapped into panic-mode right away. "The baby is coming!"

"Shhh," Mrs. Summers said soothingly. "Relax. Let's get you upstairs."

Waves of panic coursed through him despite Mrs. Summers' calm and soothing tone. "But what if the baby slides out onto the stairs?"

Mrs. Summers laughed softly. "Sweetheart, it'll take time before the baby comes. You know that."

Xander flushed in embarrassment. He'd read so many books about this, and yet when the moment came he'd allowed the lies of TV shows to get to him. He'd probably still have a couple of days, maybe less, before the baby arrived.

He let Mrs. Summers guide him up the stairs, grimacing at the irritating feeling of wetness all over his thighs and legs. He blushed at the thought of leaving trails of water behind him. Thankfully, this whole pregnancy thing was going to be over soon. He couldn't wait to be normal again. In the meantime, he was just so uncomfortable that he wanted to explode. Between the dampness on his thighs and legs and the sweat on his forehead and neck, he wasn't sure how he was going to go through more days like this.

His heart began beating faster when he saw his bed; fear and excitement meshed together, creating an overwhelming feeling that ran down to his swollen feet. He wished it was time already. He wished it was over.

Mrs. Summers rushed to his closet and got him a new clean pair of maternity pants. "Let me help you put these on."

He shook his head hard. "No! I'll do it myself."

"Xander." She gave him a look.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Could you get me some ice? I feel so hot."

She nodded, handed him the pants and walked out of the room. Xander looked down and wondered why he had to wear them. Wouldn't it be better to stay pants-less now that the baby was coming? Women at the hospital wore hospital gowns, which Mrs. Summers didn't have. He hoped she wouldn't suggest he'd wear a nightie. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he pictured himself in a pink nightie with a fluffy collar. Why, God, why must all the embarrassing Hellmouthy stuff happen to _him_? He wouldn't have minded having Buffy's hearing everyone's thoughts experience or Willow's vampire-double-visit dilemma. He was _not_going to wear a nightie!

Mrs. Summers walked into the room with a glass filled with ice cubes. "You didn't take off your pants," she said in confusion.

He accepted the glass from her hand and flushed. "I… uh…"

"They're wet," she said. "Take them off and wear the new pair."

"But, water breaking?"

She rolled her eyes, which looked so weird on her. "Sweetie, you're going to have a natural birth and that will take some time before the baby arrives. Just wear this, lie down and relax."

"Just like that?" Xander glanced at the clean, dry pants with hesitation, rubbing his wet thighs against each other. "I, uh, don't have to wear something embarrassing? Like a pad?"

Mrs. Summers smiled and shook her head.

Cheeks still burning, he looked between her and the pants. "Okay, could you, um…?"

Mrs. Summers laughed and turned around, leaving. "Xander, I'm gonna see everything soon."

He ducked his head, glad that she'd left and didn't insist on helping him change his pants.

* * *

"So, Halloween was a bust?" Xander said to the phone, leaning back against the pillows and sucking on an ice cube.

"Not exactly," Willow said. "You should have seen the tiny demon, Xander. You would have loved it."

He winced when he bit hard on the cube and looked down at the rest of the ice melting in the small plate next to him on the bed. He'd spent Halloween getting through contractions and avoiding the trick-or-treaters who had knocked on their door for candy. The last thing he needed was naughty kids pointing and mocking. He didn't dwell on the fact that his friends were having a blast at a fraternity Halloween party, because even if his eggo wasn't preggo, he wouldn't have been invited due to his townie-ness. Now he thought he'd jinxed their party with his pity thoughts, but he wasn't going to tell Willow that.

"How did it feel?" Willow said in sneaky glee.

"The answer is still no," he answered without taking a breath.

"C'mon, Xander, just tell me!"

"No!" On second thought, he'd probably tell her about jinxing Halloween. He didn't feel like talking about water-breaking and labor right now, especially when his ice had turned into water. He placed the plate on the nightstand and squirmed when the cramps started.

"Were you scared?"

"Still am," he said with a pained hiss. He started performing the Lamaze breathing exercise for the fourth time since Willow called. This time, Willow didn't offer to be his partner.

"Oooh, weren't you excited?"

"Yeah, so excited, I had to clean my specs in excitement," he said wryly, but deep inside he was excited. But mostly terrified shitless.

"We'll swing by tomorrow after Professor Walsh's lecture," Willow said. "Hopefully, when it really happens we'll be there for you."

"Yeah. Great," he said, blinking at Mrs. Summers, who walked into his room in her robe with a sleeping bag and a couple of pillows. "All right, Will, see you tomorrow."

"Take care," she said and put down the phone.

He shut the phone and pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at Mrs. Summers setting the sleeping bag on the floor next to his bed. "You don't have to sleep here," he said, feeling uncomfortable.

"You'll need someone around to help you get through the contractions. They'll get more painful as the time approaches."

He dropped back against the pillows. "Don't tell anyone if I turn on the boo-hoos." He was surprised to find himself feeling calmer. Calling Willow had helped ease his anxiety. He just hoped that it would all be over before the next night.

His chest tightened when Mrs. Summers stood next to his bed with an eager expression on her face. "Why don't you let me measure your dilation?"

He couldn't see his face, but he knew there was no difference between it and a ripe tomato. "I'm all tucked in," he said weakly, pulling his covers up to his neck.

Mrs. Summers shook her head in disappointment. "You don't need to prolong this. You can't have the baby without my help."

Watching her walk out of the room, he breathed a sigh of relief. But then his heart sped up and his cheeks felt warmer when he pictured Mrs. Summers inserting a finger inside his vagina. He pulled up the covers to hide his burning face. The thought alone made him want to pass out. What would he do when it was time for delivery?

* * *

God, he was in hell. He was definitely in hell. His arms were over his head clutching the pillows tightly, his feet rubbed against the mattress, his breath was caught in his throat – he was in so much pain he couldn't think straight. His head started lolling on the pillow as a fresh dose of cramps shot inside him. He tried to go for the Lamaze, but his brain cells couldn't connect the word with the action.

He screamed in agony.

He vaguely heard a flustered movement, and then Mrs. Summers's head popped from the floor. Her hair was tangled and messy and her pupils were small; she'd slept for an hour while he had suffered throughout. He'd been hoping he'd have the baby before she woke up, so he'd held in his cries of pain. Right now, it was too hard to keep them in.

Mrs. Summers jumped to her feet. "It's time," she announced, looking him over.

"If it's not," he said through clenched teeth, "then I'll pass on dropping a baby and just kill myself." He cried out in pain when the cramps got stronger. "Sweet mother of… shit! SHIT!"

Mrs. Summers' hand was on his sweaty head in an instant. "Don't panic. Breathe. Breathe. That's it. Try to relax. I'm gonna go downstairs and get everything we need. I won't be long."

He watched her race toward the door and pushed himself upward, groaning as the contractions became even stronger. Those positive natural birthing articles Mrs. Summers had made him read were a bunch of hooey. This was not rewarding at all. His stomach felt like it was twisting into knots and ripping at his insides.

He breathed in and out and tried to think of something other than labor: Buffy and Willow listening to a boring lecture at college, Giles having sex with Olivia, Mrs. Summers warming some water for the delivery – oh God, oh God!

_Don't panic!_He tried to break the cycle of fear by rising to his feet with difficulty. He padded across the room, not knowing what to do, and stopped midway to lean forward as another shot of cramps electrified him. With one hand on his aching lower back, he straightened himself and took a long, trembling breath.

He looked back at his bed, eying the footboard pensively, that scene from _The Good Earth_triggering his mind. A sudden, new shot of pain soared through him and he screamed. His hands clutched the dresser and he leaned forward, breathing hard and sweating like a pig.

"What are you doing up?" Mrs. Summers exclaimed.

He turned to look at her, dragging in a deep breath. She placed a bowl of water by the foot of the bed and a couple of towels next to it along with a plastic sheet, rushed to his side and then walked him back to the bed.

"Take off your pants. I'll go get the medical tools, and when I get back I'll measure your dilation. From the looks of it, it's probably six or seven centimeters open."

He squeezed his eyes shut and steadied himself by holding on the footboard with one hand. The twinges of pain returned to his lower back and he began massaging it with his other hand. Opening his eyes, he didn't see Mrs. Summers in the room. He was completely alone. Swallowing thickly, he limped with a wince toward the open door and pushed it shut, his heart almost stopping at the spooky creaking sound it made. Hesitating for a second, he moved toward the dresser, opened the drawer and took the key. He walked back toward the door and locked it.

He stared at the key in the lock for a moment and then reached with his hands toward the waistline and pulled down his pants, creating a pool around his ankles. Stepping out of them, he walked toward the bed and turned his back to it, parting his legs so that the bowl of warm water was between them. He moved his hands back to clutch the footboard's railings and then squatted, whimpering as another dose of stabbing pain shot though him.

He heard Mrs. Summers attempt to open the door. More unsuccessful attempts followed before a rain of knocks pounded on the door. "Xander, did you lock the door?"

The contractions started again, and Xander screamed in pain.

"Xander! Open the door now!"

He grunted at the end of the contraction. His swollen feet gave out and he almost fell over, but his hands tightened their hold on the footboard and he pulled himself up.

"Xander, you can't do this on your own. It's not safe! Open the door!"

He breathed hard through another contraction, releasing a long, drawn-out moan when it hit harder than the previous ones.

"I'm gonna get the extra key!"

Hanging his head in exhaustion, he felt tremors of pain reverberate through his body. He grunted when the pain started again, but this wasn't just any pain, this was torture. He screamed at the top of his lungs, louder than he had before, feeling himself growing nauseous. He shook so hard through the contraction, his mouth and eyes watering, and then a hot flush of vomit rose in his throat and he threw up.

His hands were numb from holding on to the footboard, preventing him from falling over on his own vomit. He trembled all over, panting heavily as he looked down at the mess that stained the carpet. Despair washed over him and then he was nauseous again; it was coming once more, he couldn't stop it, the icky salty taste was back and he was salivating like crazy. It was like his insides were coming out of his mouth.

He was in deep shit.

His heart raced in his chest, his eyes had gone dry from opening them wide for so long and his body hurt so much from crouching for what seemed like forever. The stench of vomit made him extremely dizzy.

Oh, God. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. What the hell was he thinking locking himself in his room? He couldn't do this alone.

The terrible sound of the fumbling key on the other side of the door made his heart skip a beat. He looked up and saw his key in the lock. Mrs. Summers' attempts to unlock the door were useless with his key in there.

"Crap!" Mrs. Summers snapped in frustration. "I can't get the key in!"

Everything went black for a second and then Xander was back. What the hell? Was he going to black out?

"Xander, do you hear me?" Mrs. Summers called from outside.

He swallowed and looked around him frantically, scared out of his mind.

"Xander!"

"I can't! I can't!" he cried out in fear. "I'm gonna faint!"

"Don't, Xander. Just push!" Mrs. Summers' voice grew desperate. "I'm gonna… crap! I can't call 911! Listen, listen, I'm gonna call Buffy and Mr. Giles!" There was a pause. "Just breathe and relax, Xander. Everything is gonna be okay."

Breathe. Breathe. He was so scared and in so much pain he'd forgotten how to breathe. He was desperate for the pain to end and would do anything to stop it. His legs were almost ready to give out, unable to hold him up any longer. He'd fall on the bowl of water, but… but what if the baby's head was already out at this point?

It couldn't be. It wouldn't come out if he didn't push. Mrs. Summers said he should push.

He pushed.

He clenched his teeth and pushed again.

Push. Push. Push.

He blacked out again for a second, followed quickly by throwing up. He panted and swallowed the foul taste in his mouth. This time it felt good to throw up.

Mrs. Summers knocked on the door a couple of times. "I'll try to find something to break the door. Don't worry. I'm here."

But she wasn't. She was on the other side of the door. He was completely _alone._He took a couple of long breaths and looked down at his body. Key words: his body. He had complete control over it. He could bring the baby out on his own. He could survive this.

He felt sudden power in his trembling legs and numb hands, his mind cleared out, uncluttered and focused. He was in full control.

When the contraction started, he pushed.

He could feel the baby working its way out of him, but wasn't sure if the head was out yet. Another snap of contraction, and he pushed. The baby slid slightly. He paused and felt the movement inside him, which brought a tiny smile to his lips. Contraction started and he pushed, the baby sliding down even more, and just like that he was at one with the baby, working together through this.

They could do this together. With that thought, he felt his emotions ease and his body regain much of its strength. He felt the tissues stretch and open, the intensity, the baby crowning, all going well and smoothly. He closed his eyes and went with the flow, pushing when he felt the urge and letting his instincts guide him through the process.

The sudden pounding on the door disturbed the serenity. The headache, the nausea, the horrible pain, they were all back at once, and he dropped on one knee. He freaked out and tried to get up on his foot unsuccessfully. He could feel his genitals in the warm water and feared the baby's head was under the water as well.

With all the strength he could muster, he lifted himself up on both feet and pushed again. Shit, he was supposed to push during the contraction. Mrs. Summers was yelling something from outside and his ultimate wish at this second was for her to _shut up._

He wanted to be back to the tranquility he was in before. But it felt impossible at this stage. The contractions were fiercely painful and he missed pushing a couple of times due to the pain. Shit! Shit! Shit!

His head was throbbing hard and tears of frustration welled in his eyes. He took a long, deep breath and as the next contraction hit, he pushed. Yes, he was back in control. Just block out any other sounds. Focus on this. Focus on the baby.

Contraction. Push.

Contraction. Push.

Contraction. Push.

He could feel it. The baby was moving. The baby was coming out. He pushed again, and he could feel the head between his thighs. He separated his thighs further to give the baby more room. He pushed again, suddenly feeling too exhausted. He was about to collapse, but held himself up firmly. He had to be strong for the baby.

He pushed, and the baby popped out of him, sliding down into the water. He gasped for breath and looked down, and a shot of fear attacked him as he saw his baby swimming in a pool of blood.

So much blood. So much water. The baby was drowning in the water. He fell to his knees, bringing down his numb hands to…

* * *

His eyes snapped open, and a strangled gasp rose from his throat. Completely in panic-mode, he bolted upright and jerked his head from left to right, looking around his bedroom. He blinked, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, and after a moment of puzzlement he realized he was in bed. He looked down at the orange sleeves of his ducky pajamas, and his hands flew to touch his stomach. It was soft and flabby, like it hadn't been in months.

The room appeared clean and tidy, even though he could smell the faint stench of vomit. Suddenly, he felt lightheaded and dizzy, so he lay down on the pillows with a soft groan, his body feeling drained and weak.

Mrs. Summers walked into the room toward the nightstand, stopping midway when she noticed he was awake. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"The baby?" he said right away.

"He's in Buffy's room."

He stared at her speechless for a second, and then felt a touch of a smile on his lips. The news fell on him like a thunderbolt. A boy. He had a son—that sounded too grown up to be real. . All this time it felt like he'd been in a play, but now, knowing the gender of the baby made it all real.

Despite his smile, Mrs. Summers' face remained passive. He felt all his happiness and excitement drain out of him, leaving him uncomfortable and uncertain. He remembered the bowl of water stained with blood, his son's arms flailing as he sank into the water. "Is he…?"

"He's fine," Mrs. Summers said, walking toward the nightstand. He noticed a couple of sewing needles and a needle threader, which Mrs. Summers placed inside the box. "I had to sew you back up," she explained when she noticed his look of confusion.

He blushed fiercely, lowering his gaze to the duckies in his pajamas. His chest tightened in discomfort and embarrassment and stayed that way even after Mrs. Summers left the room. He tried distracting himself by touching his stomach again. Was it really all over? The vitamin pills, the backache, the sleepless nights, everything? He pressed his hand down, feeling somewhat… droopy? He could not believe he was mourning it, after all the pain and torture he'd gone through. All the zapping contractions must have done something to his brain.

He heard someone come into his room. Looking up, he saw Buffy. She was smiling and, carrying a bundle wrapped in a blanket.

Heart beating faster, he pushed himself up, his breath caught in his throat. Oh, God. Oh, God.

Buffy stopped by his bed and leaned closer to him, showing him his son. "Look, baby boy, it's daddy."

"Oh, God." He stared, open-mouthed, at the tiny head that peeked out from the blanket. Reaching out, he carefully took the baby into his arms, holding him awkwardly. He felt slightly disappointed because the baby didn't look adorable at all: his eyes were swollen, his nose was flattened, and his ears were squashed. But then, he opened his tiny eyes and black orbs looked up at him. Xander grinned widely and had the urge to kiss the puffy forehead but feared he'd squash it.

Buffy sat next to him and cooed to the baby. "Yes, this is daddy. Here's hoping you're gonna grow up to be foolishly brave like him. Minus the foolish part," she said pointedly.

Xander bit his lip and looked at Buffy. "Your mom is angry with me."

"Can you blame her? What you did was incredibly stupid. You could have killed yourself or your son."

Xander looked down at the baby and thought about Mrs. Summers' cold expression. She was looking forward to this: taking classes, reading books, watching tapes, all so that she could be there for him and help him through this. All her hard work had gone to waste.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked, concerned.

He sighed. "I've got a bad case of guilt."

"It'll fade," she said. "Guilt is my thing. I worry and guilt my brain about stuff normal people get over in five minutes."

Xander smiled. "Yeah, you're a guilt freak."

She raised a hand. "Guilty as charged."

He turned his smile toward the baby, captivated by the way his son's eyes were fixed on him. At this moment, he felt a rush of emotions. He was really, really happy. Happy the pregnancy was over. Happy to have his kid in his arms healthy and perfect. But especially happy with himself and what he'd accomplished.

"Buffy, I did this."

Buffy smiled proudly. "Yeah, you did."

"This is… this is the best thing I did in my entire life."

"I'd rank bringing me back to life high on that list, but yeah, this is probably the best." She nudged his shoulder. "You're pretty good at that. Bringing people to life."

He was about to joke that it was probably his power to bring life to people's lives, but then he got distracted by the cuteness of his son yawning.

Buffy tickled the baby's nose gently. "He looks just like you. It's a tiny, tiny Xander."

Xander couldn't see the likeness, but he supposed he shouldn't voice his opinion. The baby was too puffy to look like anybody.

"Mazel tov!"

Xander and Buffy snapped their heads up to see Willow trot into the room with a sunny smile.

"The what?" Xander asked with a laugh.

"Congratulations," she said, sitting next to him and gushing and cooing at the baby.

He smiled down at the poor baby who was probably terrified at the three giant faces that twisted into funny expressions. Though he didn't look scared. The baby just gazed up in what Xander assumed was confusion. He probably only saw blurry colors; Xander had read a while ago that newborns' visual system would take some time to develop.

The sound of a camera snapping startled the three of them. Mrs. Summers lowered the camera and smiled. "This should be the first picture in the baby album."

Xander tried for a bright smile but it was mostly apologetic.

Mrs. Summers' warm smile, though, made him feel relieved.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!"

Xander walked into the house, carrying two pizza boxes and headed toward the living room. Mrs. Summers was sitting on the couch in front of the TV with a magazine in her hands. But the person he wanted to see wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Mrs. Summers smiled at the way his eyes searched all over the living room. "Sam is sound asleep and all tucked in." She patted the audio monitor on the serving table.

"Thank you," he said politely, disliking the overwhelming feeling of disappointment that overtook him. All his efforts not to turn into one of those clichéd parents whose happiness wasn't complete without the sight of their precious little ones seemed to be doomed to failure. And it wasn't like Sam was old enough to do exciting, fun things like toss a ball or mess up words; all he did was yawn and stare, and yet when he did that, there would be a silly fluttering feeling in Xander's stomach that he would never confess to anyone.

Holding in his sigh of dissatisfaction, he placed the pizza boxes next to the monitor. He tried to listen carefully for any sound, hoping Sam was awake.

"How's work?" Mrs. Summers asked, distracting him from listening.

He took off his cap with a sigh. "Let's see: lots of weather talk, was taunted by college stuck-ups, was harassed by an old lady, heard lots of have-a-nice-day's, got yelled at for being late even though I was given the wrong address, and none of these people tipped."

"At least we got to have dinner." Mrs. Summers pointed at the pizza boxes. "Working as a pizza delivery boy has its advantages."

He had an inward fight over whether he should sit next to her or keep standing up. He had a severe case of reek and it wouldn't be fair if the woman who housed him with cheap rent passed out due to his stenchy state. "I talked with my parents," he said, choosing to remain on his feet.

Mrs. Summers nodded attentively.

"Mom completely freaked out about the baby and dad asked about the whore." He brushed his damp hair back. "But at least they know."

"Did you tell them you're living here?"

"They didn't ask, but they clearly figured out I wasn't gonna mooch off of them. Besides, I'm eighteen. I can do whatever I want."

He swallowed at the look she gave him. After all these months, he still couldn't cope with that look or its smile version. He shuffled his feet in discomfort. "Uh, I'm gonna go up and change into something that doesn't smell of cheese and sweat."

She nodded. "All right. I'll set the table, and…" She looked at his empty hands. "Where's your cushion? Did you forget it in the car?"

His cheeks scorched with embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't take it with me to work."

"Again?" Mrs. Summers exclaimed. "But, sweetie, with your hemorrhoid…"

He smacked his hands over his ears. "I get it! Stop talking!" Still blushing, he lowered his hands. "I can take the pain but _not_the humiliation, okay?"

She shook her head, and he wondered if mothers all over the world just enjoyed embarrassing their children or were stupid enough to be unaware that having the 'roids was a bullying magnet.

He had been naïve to believe that the suffering would be over once the baby came out. He'd been constipated for a few days after the delivery which led to hemorrhoids, hair loss, numerous stretch marks on his thighs and lower stomach, and most embarrassingly, he had to wear pads because of the bleeding. He'd drawn the line on wearing panties to hold them in place and bought lots of Speedos instead. At least he wasn't breastfeeding the baby.

As he turned around and headed for the stairs, Mrs. Summers called after him, "Hurry up. _The Daily Show_will be on in a few."

The last thing he needed after a long night of driving from house to house was to watch another late night show. He'd watched a ton of them in the wide-load days, but after Sam popped out of him, he couldn't take it anymore. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. Mrs. Summers believed that he liked everything she did and there was no use of telling her that they were mostly stupid pregnancy cravings – which she would never believe because there was no such thing as TV show cravings. His need for acceptance and approval hit a new low when he'd pretended to enjoy watching _The View _.

He did like watching _Oprah_, which was probably his feminine side speaking. After all, the hole was still there and would probably remain there for the rest of his life, unless Anyanka was killed. But if she got killed, that would mean Sam might disappear, so Xander would live with a vagina to keep his son alive. That meant that if he'd decided to turn gay and sleep with men, he'd probably be in deep trouble again. The scary thought though, was that both men and women could knock him up. He'd got his own version of Angel's curse. No more happy for Xander. Although he had the option of going on the pill.

He stopped in his tracks when he caught a shadow of someone inside his bedroom. His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of someone alone in the room with Sam. He reached for the stake in his belt and walked slowly toward the door, careful not to make a sound.

He peered inside to get a glimpse of the intruder, and to his surprise and relief it was no one but his fearless leader.

Buffy seemed to have sensed his presence because she spun around, assuming a matching fighting stance. Her gaze fell to the stake in his hand. "What? You thought I was a vampire?"

He did. And he realized how stupid that was, because for vampires to walk in, they had to get an invite. And he was not implying that Mrs. Summers was stupid enough to invite one in, especially after he'd mentally accused her of being stupid enough to be unaware of the embarrassment of going to work with a hemorrhoid cushion. Speaking of which, there it was, resting on his bed.

He walked toward the nightstand, swiftly pushing the cushion to the other side before Buffy saw it, and turned off the baby monitor. "I thought you were a burglar."

Buffy looked at his stake again.

"What? This is the only weapon I have." He put the stake on the nightstand and walked toward the crib. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to give Baby Scooby a visit."

He peered down at Sam and pushed the pillow on his right side to force his head to stare at the ceiling. Sam liked to sleep with his head leaning to the right, and now his head was flat on one side. He had to make it impossible for Sam to lean his head to the right, hoping his head shape would go back to normal.

He noticed Buffy staring at him. "What?"

She pointed at him with an impressed smile. "You look like you know what you're doing."

"I do know what I'm doing. Does your mom even know you're here?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course she does. Did you think I snuck into _my_house through the window? That was so 1997."

Xander gave her a look. "I think you walked straight to my bedroom while your poor mother was in the kitchen."

Buffy shrugged. "She was in the bathroom."

He took off his pizza delivery shirt and tossed it to bed. He rubbed his thighs against each other, feeling uncomfortable down there. He'd been wearing the same pad all night; better change into a clean one right now. He turned to Buffy, trying not to blush. "Now get out. I'm changing my clothes."

Buffy nodded and glanced at his clock on the wall. "It's midnight. I should go out and slay."

"And say hi to your mom before you leave."

Buffy held in an amused laugh.

"I'm a parent now. This automatically turns me into a mature responsible man," Xander said sarcastically. "Besides, she probably heard your voice when the monitor was on."

"Fine." She walked toward the crib and leaned to kiss Sam on the forehead.

Xander peeked through the window at the pavement. Months ago, Angel had been standing out there waiting for her. The sight of him had sent Xander bonkers, wallowing in self-pity and jealousy. Angel was gone now and Buffy had to go out every night to fight alone.

"Buffy," he said quickly before she left the room.

She looked back at him, her hand on the doorknob, and the hallway light brightened the darkness of the room. Instead of irritating him, it made him smile. "Happy slaying."

Buffy smiled back. "Wish me monsters."

"I'll keep it in my prayers."

She closed the door behind her and the room fell into darkness.

He pulled down his bright red pants and walked to the closet to grab clean pajamas. At the bottom of the closet, he caught the plastic package of Kotex and wondered if he needed to take one to the bathroom. What if Buffy came up again and saw him walking into the bathroom with the Kotex in his arms?

She'd probably be embarrassed and they would never speak of it again, or she'd probably be cool about and act like she didn't see it. Nonetheless, he was blessed to have friends who embraced what he was now and didn't treat him as anyone but dear old Xander. He was half- man half-woman now, kinda like Ranma 1/2 (except without the whole cold and hot water thing).

It was unique.

He was unique. Yay for uniqueness.

He heard the front door creak shut and looked out of the window. Buffy crossed the yard, then stopped. She turned around and smiled up at him. He waved with a grin. She waved back and left.

He turned on the monitor and went to the bathroom. He had to hurry before the pizza got cold.

**The End**


End file.
